


Landslide

by Freyjasdottir



Series: Kashmir [3]
Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: Animal Sacrifice, Battle, Canon Compliant, Christianity, F/M, Fantasy, Intrigue, Moral Dilemmas, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Power Dynamics, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Religion, Smut, Time Travel, Unreliable Narrator, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-12
Updated: 2019-10-22
Packaged: 2019-10-27 02:39:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 64
Words: 250,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17758208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Freyjasdottir/pseuds/Freyjasdottir
Summary: The sons of Ragnar have grown up and are starting to live their own lives, much to Ragnhild's dismay. She clings to the past with a passion, but in her heart she knows that life will change, soon. Bjorn keeps pushing her for divorce, and she's about to relent... Then Ragnar returns. Ragnhild hopes against all odds that things will change for the better now, but even the gods have their doubts. They have kept their distance ever since Uppsala, but they have not forgotten about her, or Ragnar and his sons. Everything is about to come down like a landslide.It's not required to have read part 1 and 2 when you start reading here.





	1. Family Matters

**Author's Note:**

> Updates will come every Tuesday, like before. I'm aiming for about 10K of fresh content each week but if it's less at any given point I hope you'll forgive me. My inbox is open to any questions and comments you may have, constructive criticism is more than welcome. 
> 
> As for the rape scene, I will use an a/n to give a head's up when it's [i]that[/i] scene. The chapter after starts with a short summary of the important details you missed if you skipped over it. I fully understand not wanting to be confronted with it and will not judge you.
> 
> This chapter starts with a POV of Thormund, Ragnhild's son.  
> 15-02-815

"You knew." Dad's words were like thunder, though he spoke them softly. I could barely hear him speak through the shutters. "All these years, all those traders... You had to know." I glanced over at my sister. We both knew what was to come. This would be a bad one. Still, we both stayed put. This would be interesting, no matter what they would talk about. It was rare enough to see them alone, and them not realizing we were standing outside, listening in...

Maybe we'd finally get some answers. Mom kept her mouth shut as to why dad didn't live with us anymore, aside from telling us they needed space. Siggy felt the same, I could sense her excitement as she slowly took in a breath.

"Why are you here?" Mom asked.

"You knew!" Dad banged his fist against the wall. I jumped up a little, but mom stared dead ahead, unflinching.

"And I ask again, why have you come to talk about it?" I'd never seen dad so angry, nor mom so calm. My hand reached out to Siggy's. Our fingers met in a clammy embrace.

"Because you didn't tell me! Our people died, and you kept your fucking mouth shut! Dozens of our people's families, some of them my friends, they died!" Holy shit. This wasn't one of their regular fights. This was the kind where we were sent off to the beach even before it started.

"They died years ago. Ragnar kept it silent so he could go to Paris. I kept it silent so you could go to the Mediterranean." She admitted it? But mom was always honest about everything. She only kept a few secrets, to protect us... No, this wasn't right. She loved everything that lived, even animals. She'd never be this calm about people dying, ever. Mom wasn't that heartless.

"That's not an excuse!" Mom stood still, dad looming over her. She had to look straight up to see his face. How could she not want to run? The last time dad had looked at me like that I'd almost set the great hall on fire.

"Then tell them. Tell the people what happened and force your own hand. Go to England, go fuck over Ecbert." Siggy gasped softly. Mom never cursed, not in front of us. What else did she do when we weren't looking? I needed answers, not add more questions. "Desert your dreams, after all these years of planning for it. Go on, I don't mind. I've got a family to take care of."

"What are they talking about?" Siggy's voice was close to my ear.

"I don't know," I whispered back. "But we can't get caught now. They'll kill us." 

Whatever this was about, it was a secret mom had kept for years. I didn't know what to make of this, any of it. All I knew what that I hated seeing them fight like this. We shouldn't be listening in on this. 

"I didn't know mom could be this scary." 

I took in mom again and saw what Siggy meant. Normally mom was so full of life, and so easy going. She could always show her emotions, she was like one of those books she loved to read. Once you knew what to look for, it was obvious. Sure, she could be strict when it came to weapons and alcohol, but otherwise she trusted us to not get into trouble.

But mom didn't show any emotion now, at all. Her gaze was blank, and even her hands were still. She'd always rub her fingers against another, or twirl her wedding ring around her finger, but now... She was still as a troll in the morning light. 

"You're impossible!" Dad shouted.

"You're loud. The children can come back any time. We have neighbors."

"That settlement is all there is left of the legacy my father built!" What did grandpa have to do with this? His name hadn't come up in ages. 

"His legacy was never about that settlement. He will -" 

"You didn't know him! Not like I did!" Dad was ready to strike her. I could see it from the way his arms tensed up, and his shoulders rising a bit. He... In training, he always had this tell. Ubbe had pointed it out to me once, and said I did the same thing. It was how he could always tell which way I would strike.

Mom took a step back. He couldn't hit her, he didn't do that. Whatever happened, he'd never lay a hand on her. Everyone knew that. They would scream, and shout, mostly about us, but they would never get physical. 

Dad let out a grunt and left. Only when I heard the door close did mom finally turn back to normal. She let out a deep breath, and it sounded like she was about to cry. Siggy clutched my hand even tighter. I didn't want to hide from mom. I wanted to comfort her like she always did with me. Make her a cup of tea, hold her in my arms and ask her what was wrong. Siggy didn't feel the same. She dragged me off, and the last I heard was a soft sob. Mom... 

"What do you think that was about?" I asked. Siggy sat down on a crate behind the neighbor's house. Her fingers tapped on her lips, like mom did when she was figuring something out.

"I don't know. Something about a settlement, and England..." She was strangely calm about all of this. "We know too little to make sense of it." 

"I guess we know now why dad was so pissed when we saw him earlier. We should go comfort mom. She looked so sad..." I turned back, not a sound coming through the shutters of our house. 

"She needs to be alone. If this is about something we weren't meant to hear, she'll just put on a smile and pretend nothing's wrong." I didn't like it, but she was right. Some things we weren't old enough for, and ruling the kingdom was one of them. 

Mom taught us a lot about how we could be fair rulers, but we had no experience actually doing it. Sometimes she would ask us what we thought on certain rulings grandma and dad made, and she would explain what she thought and why. Other times she would teach us about the world, and tell us stories of warfare, and the other lands south of here, beyond the sea. Not that we actually did anything with it, but she made us repeat back after her to make sure we had memorized it. 

"I wish our cousins were here. They would be able to help her," I said. Mom always felt better after a cup of tea with them around, or seeing Freydis mind her own business, play with her dolls, that kind of thing. Normal life.

"Yeah... I can't wait to be old enough to hear what's happening. We should know what's going on."

"She'll never let that happen. She wants to keep us away from everything to do with ruling for as long as she can. She won't even let me have an arm ring! Hvitserk was only six when he got his!"

"Shh! She can still hear you." Siggy normally wouldn't shoot me a dirty look like that... Then again, this wasn't normal. None of it was. Something big was about to happen.

I lowered my voice. "I just want to go with dad on the next raid. No one's ever gone that far south, can you imagine?" Mom loved telling us about the world and what was beyond the horizon, to the south. Giraffes, elephants, that huge, endless beach... I had to see that for myself. 

"She will never let you go, it's too dangerous." And Siggy was even less likely to come. I had to wait for an arm ring, but she... It could be years until she was a woman. Exciting as other people thought it was to be the twins of Kattegat, it mostly sucked. We always had to behave, and be kind to strangers, only to learn they were enemies after the fact. 

"It fucking sucks. I want to come with." I let my hand slide over my head. I'd finally gotten mom to agree with getting a mohawk. Having the sides of my skull bared at least made me look like a man. 

"Me too, but we have to wait until mom thinks we're ready. She'd kill dad for taking us with against her will, or even just you."

"Well, it would suck to go without you there. I can't remember the last time we weren't together for longer than a day." Siggy and I had always done everything together. For some reason mom had insisted we stop sleeping in the same bed together when we turned ten, but it didn't stop us from crawling in next to each other all the time. I just couldn't fall asleep without Siggy near. Having to miss her for moons at a time...

Maybe mom was right. I knew I could hold my own in a fight, Thorfan had been training us for six years. But the thought of having to leave Siggy behind just seemed wrong. She was my sister, and we were closer than any other siblings in town. Mom always said we came into this world wanting to hold each other's hands, and that I came out just a few minutes after her. She didn't even need to make a real effort on me, it was Siggy that always gave her the most trouble.

Back when we were kids, Siggy had been terrified of death, but dad had gotten her through it. That had been before he left, when mom was pregnant with Freydis. Sometimes I wanted to go back to then, even if mom had been weird about the baby for a long time. We were happy then, the five of us. But as Freydis grew older, mom and dad grew apart. 

"Come on, let's go see what Margrethe is up to." Siggy got up, looking unaffected by what we just saw. She had turned hard as a rock, she was always thinking of stuff I didn't have to bother with. I had the strength, and Siggy had the brain. I couldn't understand how she moved past this with such ease. Grandma always said Siggy was too much like mom for her own good.

"Yeah, I'm sure she's fucking up something." We made our way to the hall, where grandma was working on some weaving. I didn't understand what was so fun about it, it was just pulling strings through other strings, and then you had a nice blanket or something. Siggy didn't bother with it either, much to my satisfaction. She was a warrior, not a lady. From her long hair down to her clothes, it was clear she wasn't meant to wear dresses and sit still and be pretty. She was fierce, and brave, like me. I couldn't understand how mom kept calling her little sweet pea. Siggy wasn't small, or green, or a vegetable. It wasn't funny, either.

Sitting down at one of the tables, we saw Margrethe talking to some of her friends. The hall was quiet this time of day, everyone had better things to do. Most of our friends had to help their family with fishing, or making ropes, or boat repairs, but we didn't have to do that kind of thing. We only had to help out with the chores around the house, even me. I'd get a woman to do all that for me, our cousins all said so. But even dad agreed with mom on that, I needed to learn how to appreciate how much work it was or some horse dung like that.

"You know, I overheard Ubbe talk about her. She's very sweet, and caring, he says," Siggy said as she rolled her eyes.

"Sigurd told mom the same. Said he was in love with her." I'd never fall in love with a girl like her. 

Siggy gasped at that piece of gossip. "He didn't!"

"He did. He had sex with her before they left to go hunting." Our eyes took her in, not seeing what the appeal could be. Aside from her looks she was dumb as a rock, barely made a passable slave as it was. Mom wasn't too fond of her, either. 

"Why doesn't dad sacrifice her? She's worthless," I muttered.

"Mom would never allow it, you know that. And if Ubbe and Sigurd both like her, even grandma will never go for it."

"Shame."

"Are you kidding? We'd lose our entertainment." 

Margrethe cried out, standing up as she clutched her finger. She'd cut herself again. We snickered as we saw grandma throw her an irritated look, but then softened as she helped the girl take care of the wound herself. 

"Grandma knows about the boys as well," Siggy noted. "I can't believe how much shit she gets away with."

"I can't believe grandma actually puts up with this bullshit. It's just a little cut, we've had way worse in training."

"Yeah, but she's not us. We're just awesome." 

I nodded in agreement.

"And just what makes you think you are so awesome?" We flushed as Floki joined us at the table, sitting in front of us. 

"Floki, what are you doing here?" Usually he only came over for feasts and Things, or whenever Helga was visiting mom. 

"I need to talk to your father. Do you know where he is?"

"He left for the hunting cabin, I think. There's some news our cousins need to know of." Siggy grabbed hold of my hand again, she was nervous.

"Really now? And how would you know that, when Thorfan just told me your father was headed up to your mother's? Then I found she was not at home." I hated how he could always know when we had been up to trouble. He got this intense look, and would stare down into your spirit. 

"We heard mom and dad fighting over something, so we didn't go in," Siggy said, easy as if she was telling the truth. "You know how they can get when they're alone."

"Yes, I imagine... There's but a few reasons for the sons of Ragnar to all come together. Whatever it was, it must be more important than the news I bring."

"The boats are all ready?" I was guessing, but Floki was too proud of his achievement to hide the shimmer in his eyes. He was terrible at keeping secrets.

"That's between me and your father," he said softly. If it hadn't been true, he would have told us so. He'd complain about the sails not being done yet, or the anchors that cost too much for what they were used for. "You're starting to get as curious as that mother of yours. She was a mystery since the day I met her, and she has done little to make me think she is no longer one."

"I know what you mean," Siggy said. Her pensive look said she felt the same, but her fingers tapping my hand told me she was trying to get Floki to talk. "She can be really scary, when she thinks we don't look."

"Oh, you haven't seen the worst of it. Imagine that whimsical slave girl, Mar..."

"Margrethe," I supplied.

"Yes, her. Imagine she were to start yelling at your father, and then turn out to be right about yelling at him. What would you think, if you saw a slave defy their king?"

"She'd get punished, or put to death." Siggy said it like it was fact, as if mom wouldn't interfere if something like that were to happen now. This wasn't like before, when grandpa was still around. Him leaving had changed a lot, according to Ubbe and Hvitserk. 

"Ragnar didn't do anything of the sort. He told your mother to get her stuff and sleep on that spare cot from then on." We had known mom was a slave once, and that was why she didn't like the fact there were slaves around at all. But we'd not often heard about her life then. The boys as mom called them sometimes let things slip, especially Ubbe and Hvitserk had some fond memories of how she had learned the language and the blunders she had made. It was hard to imagine mom ever not talking Norse, unless she started talking her own language with dad. That hadn't happened for a while, though.

"No way," I breathed. "Why would she ever want to risk her own life like that?" Siggy was just as curious to find out what might have brought mom to throw her life away.

"Oh, but that's the best part." Floki was eager to tell us, his grin and giggle made me sure of that. "She was fighting with Vinh over how to save Ubbe's life. I was there, so I know this. Ragnhild said he took some strange medicine, that's poisonous if you take too much. She insisted he needed to eat coals to draw out the poison from his stomach. Vinh said he needed to be blooded first. And then, without hesitation, she grasped the blade Vinh was aiming at poor Ubbe." He clasped his fist together in front of our eyes. "Your mother didn't care that she was bleeding, or what might befall her. She loved Ubbe, even though she only knew us for half a year, maybe less."

"Wow... I know she doesn't like Vinh, but this..." I was just as astonished as Siggy. We knew mom was strong, but this was badass. She might have been right when she told us you didn't need a sword to be a warrior. 

"Mom makes sure to tell us bloodletting is wrong and stupid every time it comes up, but I didn't know she'd go that far to prevent it." Siggy looked up to me in amazement. "She'd really do that?"

Floki grinnned, loving how much attention he got from his story. "Oh, she's done more than her fair share of stupid things, all seemingly for no reason at all. But almost every time she stands up for something, she is right. When you were born, she stood against the entire village. Only Bjorn was just as adamant about you two making it past the first nine days. You know how rare twins are, especially if both live." Every time we had to meet some foreign king or earl we got to hear that again. It was exhausting. 

"What else can you tell us about her? Mom barely talks of her past here, from before we were born. It's like she only talks about everything that happened after grandpa left." Siggy nodded in agreement. 

"Your mother has good reasons not to speak of it, I'm sure. She has had a hard life, you cannot begrudge her wanting to keep you from it. She's happy now, that's what matters."

"But she's not," Siggy countered. Her voice was rebellious. What was she trying to accomplish? "She needs dad to come home."

"Your mother does things for reasons we don't always understand," Floki said. He almost looked sorrowful. "Just know that she would rather die herself than have anything happen to you. I have seen the proof of that for myself."

"Then it's true? We were supposed to have another sibling?" My eyes went wide as I heard the words come from Siggy's mouth. We weren't supposed to know about that, at all. No one had ever told us, it was just a theory we whispered about. Sometimes mom would let a hand slide over her stomach, like pregnant women did. Or she would stare at the place in the hall where she gave birth to Freydis. Then the age gap between us and Freydis, some vague memories of mom telling us she would only ever have the two of us... 

Floki's face got downright scary. "You have no business asking me about such matters."

"Then we'll ask mom." Siggy made to stand up, trying to drag me after her. Had she lost her mind?

"You'll do no such thing," Floki hissed as he reached for Siggy's arm. "You will not hurt her like that, ever. She is your mother. If only you knew..."

"Then tell us," Siggy insisted as she sat down again. "Is it true? Did she lose a child?"

Floki grunted. "She did. I will tell you, but only to save her from having to relive it when you ask. Don't even think of pretending that you wouldn't. You will not talk to her about it, ever. Is that understood? You're never to let on that you know, or I'll..." 

"You'll what?" Siggy was pushing him too far. Floki hardly ever got mad, but this... He was close to being enraged. 

Floki banged his fist on the table. "I'll make sure you wish you never heard the rumors to begin with. Is that understood? I am not telling you this to satisfy your curiosity, Siggy Bjornsdottir."

"Yes, Floki," I said before my sister could make it worse. I hit my elbow into her ribs, forcing Siggy to agree as well. This was the best we could hope for at this point.

"You are too young to remember. She was pregnant the year we went back to Pari, and from the start she realized something would go wrong. She just knew it, like she knows things more often. Your father left to go raiding, against her wishes. And when we came back, we hardly recognized her. Helga told me she had begged her to save the child over herself. She was willing to sacrifice her life so that your brother could live. In the end she struggled so much, she was thought to be barren from then on." 

That explained more than I cared to admit. Mom was worried about the smallest things, even though she held back all the time. Back when she was carrying Freydis, she was at her worst. After losing a child... We were all she'd ever get. Six years without a new child pretty much meant she wouldn't conceive again, and at her age... It would be just the three of us. I'd known it, somehow, but I hadn't realized it like this.

"Is that why mom and dad need space?" I asked. Floki seemed reluctant to answer. Three children wasn't much. Maybe it was because mom wasn't from around here, and it was just more difficult for her to get with child. 

"But it has been so long since that happened," Siggy protested. She looked like she didn't understand. I wasn't sure I got the whole picture, either. It was just like before, we didn't have enough pieces of the puzzle to see the whole story. "And then they had Freydis, and they were happy for a while. I can remember some of the good times."

"It has to do with the son they lost, yes. And that's all I'll say. I've said too much already. You'll not bring this up again, not with your parents, or with the boys. Some things are better left in the past." He got up before we could ask any more questions. Judging by his pace, his mood wasn't that celebratory anymore. 

"I told you, mom keeps all the stuff she really worries about away from us," Siggy said sullenly. She didn't look like she was glad to have heard the story. 

"Then I wonder what else she's been keeping from us." We sat in silence, watching Margrethe laugh with her friends as she hardly did any work. Just for a moment I wished I could be as carefree as her, and just spend a day being dumb as a rock.


	2. Return of a Ghost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-03-815

Ragnar had been gone for over ten years when I saw him standing in the old market square. The boys stood in front of him, getting yelled at. Sigurd and Ivar would barely remember him, to them he was just a ghost, a legend of the ages that happened to be their father. Ubbe and Hvitserk, however... 

They remembered. They had seen their father slowly unravel, recalled how he had been before he ever laid eyes on Paris, how he had come back afterward, then had come with the second time around. And I remembered how I had to comfort them after he had left, broken and defeated as I was. I'd been there to pick up the pieces as I broke down myself.

I had enough of this shitshow meant to impress the smallfolk. I couldn't find Bjorn in the crowd, so I turned around and went to get him. I hoped he would be at home, otherwise I could spend a day searching for him. Only the gods knew where he spent his time these days.

"Bjorn, are you home?" I said as I banged on the door. 

"Go away, woman! I'm busy," he yelled back. 

"Ragnar's back." The door opened in three seconds. He was shirtless, no doubt having over company. I forced my eyes up to his. "He's in the square." Grabbing a shirt and pulling it over his head as he was moving, he ignored me. I didn't want to see who was inside, and the woman had the decency not to engage in conversation with me. I couldn't even pretend to care anymore. I had hoped his needing distance and accompanying need to cheat on me were only temporary, but after three years of him having lived on his own, I had to start admitting defeat. 

I followed him to the square, rolling my eyes as I saw his pony tail sway after him. Now Ragnar was back he'd finally cut it off. At least some good would come from Ragnar's return. The thing had been a thorn in my side for years.

By the time I got back, Ragnar was already hugging Ubbe. Bjorn slowed down as he made his way through the crowd, taking in his father. Ragnar seemed... I couldn't quite put a name to it. He looked ragged, but in an old and wizened way. Who knew what had happened to him. I wasn't sure how I felt about him returning.

Bjorn did little to ease my mind. They were staring each other down, trying to see who could piss farthest. Ragnar wasn't back for an hour, and already he was testing everyone he saw. I'd seen enough, I had no desire to be put to the test as well. He'd come and find me eventually. 

Siggy and Thormund were still out, no doubt caught in the thrill of the moment. At least Freydis was playing on the ground, having a tea party with her dolls. She didn't bother looking up as I kissed her on the forehead, happy as a peach to pour a fresh cup for Wolf's bane and Dandelion. The twins were no doubt pure blooded Viking, but Freydis was softer. Since Bjorn had moved out a week after her third birthday, Freydis hardly seemed to recognize him as an important person in her life. She had clung to me, and I was happy to indulge her whims. She liked animals, she liked princesses, and most of all she liked to stay in and keep me company. 

Freydis was a godsend, like me. She was the living proof the gods were real. After her, no other children had followed, even though the pregnancy went as well as could be expected. I was fine with it, three children was already a huge chore. It was enough for me. Things were good as they were, and I wouldn't let Ragnar ruin them.

I started cutting vegetables when the door was almost lifted out of the hinges. At least Bjorn wouldn't be here to complain about the carrots. He'd never grown to like them, despite my best efforts. Even honey hadn't persuaded him to eat them. We all had our faults. 

"Mom! Mom, you won't believe it!" Siggy called out. 

"How many times have I told you to be careful with the door?" I chided. 

"Sorry, mom. Ragnar came back! We saw grandpa!" I heard their weapons clatter on the floor, then before I could turn my head they were dragged over to the corner. 

"He looked mad, what did he do to our cousins?" Thormund asked. 

"They're not your cousins, they're your uncles. Ragnar probably wanted to make a big impression, I don't think he's mad at anyone but himself." I waved my knife around as I spoke, rolling my eyes. It had been the right decision to avoid getting dragged in there. I was in no mood to deal with this crap today.

"Why would grandpa be mad at himself?" 

"Thormund, I told you a thousand times, and no doubt your father had told you the same story. Come on, help me get dinner ready, there's probably a lot of commotion going to happen tonight." The twins helped cutting vegetables as I set up the table. "Freydis, can you have that cleaned up by the time dinner is ready? And don't forget to wash your hands." 

Freydis immediately started to pick up her toys. "Yes, mom." 

"I can't believe he's a king!" Siggy said. "I never saw one before."

"You did honey, remember that man whose hair was so shiny you wanted to cut it off and keep it for yourself? That was king Harald Finehair." I hadn't missed anything important, if they were talking about this Bjorn had managed to defuse the situation. 

"Well, he didn't look like a king," she said, trying to sound dignified. The twins were in the middle of figuring out who they were and what they wanted from life, and it was amazing to see how much they could change within as much as a week. Just two weeks back she'd gone through a pensive phase where she tried to be more quiet so she'd hear more, bless her spirit. Thormund felt the need to speak up more now, mostly in defense of me and his sisters. 

"Did Ragnar seem like a king to you?" She thought for a moment, then muttered something under her breath. 

"You know I can hear you," I said as I gestured for them to get a move on with dinner. I hadn't overheard, but it was good to instill them with a sense of how almighty I could be. It still worked on the boys.

The door opened again, Hvitserk bursting in. "Auntie, have you - oh. You heard." 

"Good afternoon Hvitserk. I'm doing great, thanks for asking." I got up to get some more vegetables. As I put them on the table, Hvitserk automatically sat down and started cutting as well. He had dropped by for dinner so often before, this was a habit to us. 

"Salad?" he asked as he started cutting. He wasn't a fan, but I had managed to secure some fresh vegetables at the market today. I was dying for something that wasn't salted fish or seal. 

"I've had a long day. There's some bread left to go with it. Do you think your brothers are coming as well?" The question answered itself as Ubbe and Sigurd came in, followed by the sounds of Ivar crawling. They also knew the drill and set up more plates and tried to see how they could help. It gave me a moment to sit and take a breath.

Seeing Bjorn today had been hard. Some part of me still believed we could make it work. Something would bring us back together, and if Ragnar's return wasn't it... I couldn't think about that now, not with this many people around that knew how to read my face. 

"I really don't get why you don't just get a slave," Ivar muttered as he started cutting a crop of lettuce. 

"You know why. Be sure to wash that before you put it in, it didn't look very clean. Ale anyone?" Except for Freydis, everyone said yes. "You know I don't want you drinking yet," I told the twins. Siggy and Thormund groaned in disapproval. 

"But dad lets us drink!" Thormund complained. I had to hide a scowl.

"And your father is very dumb because he started drinking at your age. Your brains are still developing, if it were up to me you'd stay sober until you're as old as Ubbe. I don't want you to be as dumb as your uncles, either." Bjorn had no doubt wanted to play the cool dad again, despite the limited time he spent with the twins. He knew exactly why I didn't want them to drink, and he knew just how to get under my skin.

"It's not fair," Siggy muttered. "Why do you get to decide that?" Ubbe must have seen they had started wearing my patience thin. 

"Listen to your mother," he said. "It's been an exhausting day for all of us, you should be kind to her." I finished pouring everyone their drinks and sat down next to Freydis. I kissed her on the head, causing her to look up. 

"Is grandpa going to eat with us, too?" she asked. 

"I don't know, little bean. I think he might eat with grandma tonight." No doubt Ragnar and Aslaug had some catching up to do. 

"Can we invite him for dinner tomorrow then? I'd really like to meet him." 

"If I see him, I'll ask. I'm sure he wants to meet you, too." I doubted Bjorn would deem to tell his father about the children. Not that I truly minded, it felt like my news to break anyway. 

"I think we're almost done," Hvitserk said. Everyone got up to wash their hands, even though they'd never do so if they weren't eating here. Siggy had already made a dressing, and Sigurd threw around some bread. Before I could say anything, he already started apologizing. 

"I know, no throwing food around," he grinned. Smartass. He knew I hated having ants in the house. That little shit knew exactly how far he could push me before I would snap at him, though he'd come closer than he thought he did. He'd come by tomorrow unexpectedly for tea. I'd go to the forest after he'd left. 

"This dressing is really good, Siggy. Did you learn any of your mother's recipes yet?" Siggy sneered at the compliment Ubbe gave her. 

"I'm too busy training to bother with cooking. You know that. I knocked down Thormund today, with nothing but a shield." I had to smile at the pride that shone through her voice. She was getting better fast now that she had hit puberty. She was as tall as I was, much to her delight. It had been a foolish hope to have her stick to my size, ever since she was seven.

"I tripped over a rock, that's not the same thing!" 

"If it were a battle you still would have died," she said, rolling her eyes. The boys were surprisingly quiet, no doubt wanting to talk about what had happened today. They practically inhaled their food. I tried to make sure Freydis wasn't hiding her mushrooms under the table, but she had chosen to put them on Sigurd's plate instead. He didn't mind and ate them. I just sighed and focused on my cup of ale. 

I noticed Ivar was trying to smuggle some ale to the twins, but Ubbe intervened. On moments like these he was more of a father to them than Bjorn was. If it hadn't been for him I'd have lost my mind years ago. 

The door opened again, but I didn't have to look around to know who was there. The twins ran over, and the boys fell silent. Today had been bad enough without having to see Bjorn twice in a day. 

"Carrots? Ugh," I heard Bjorn say. I did my best not to respond. It was already crowded in here, I didn't need the thick tension that took over the house every time he came over. Bjorn ushered the twins to sit down again and poured himself some ale. He took a seat, sitting near the twins. It also happened to be the spot furthest away from me, I didn't fail to notice. 

Bjorn asked the twins about their training and got up when they told him they couldn't have any ale. He poured them both a mug, his eyes daring me to say something about it. I stared back, not wanting to look away first. It was only when Freydis wanted some more water that I stood up and got her some. Unlike Bjorn, I wasn't willing to let the children get hurt because of our fighting. I felt the urge to throw the water in his neck, but I held back. If only he'd let me explain, we could put this all behind us. 

"Why don't you kids go wash up. If you're old enough to drink ale, you're old enough to show Freydis how to do the dishes," I said as everyone had finished eating. Thormund wanted to protest, but Siggy poked an elbow in his ribs. 

"Mom and dad are going to shout at each other again," she whispered for all to hear. 

"Go on, sweetie," I told Freydis. "Go with your brother and sister." After the kids had left the room stayed silent. The tension was building to a record high. Bjorn and I kept staring at each other. His eyes were daring me to scream at him. My hands were balled up in fists beneath the table. Only he could drive me up the wall like this. 

"How dare you," I said after a minute. 

Bjorn just scoffed. "We're not in your homeland, Ragnhild. Give it a rest." Every time we had a disagreement, he'd fall back to that. I was too worried, I just didn't understand, I had to let go of where I spent most of my life.

"This is about you undermining me, wanting to be the cool dad. Every time the twins spend time with you they start bashing me for being too strict. We still need to raise them together, you can't decide things like that on your own. If you want to play their father, you'll have to start acting like an adult for once." The boys sat still as stone, only Ivar seemed not to mind. They weren't used to seeing us fight, but with Ragnar back... Things would change. They would have to grow up so much faster than I thought was good for them. 

"You barely let them out of your sight," Bjorn countered. "I couldn't even come near if I tried!"

"Because I never know if you'll be there!" I snapped back. "You spend all your time being away from us!" I didn't want to call it what it was. Calling him out on his infidelity would just open up old, painful wounds. They were better off being buried underneath my anger.

"Maybe if you'd agree to a divorce, we wouldn't have that problem!" He shouted so loud, Ivar backed away a bit. 

This also was a subject I'd rather avoid. Still, my anger had reached a breaking point. "Maybe you should ask me again," I said with ice in my voice. 

Bjorn hadn't thought I'd respond like that. His rage died down instantly. The idea of getting what he was after seemed to affect him differently than I'd guessed. And for a split second, I regretted saying those words. It only made me more upset, knowing I still held onto that sliver of hope. The one that had kept me from agreeing to divorcing him in the first place.

"I only came over to tell the boys Ragnar wants to meet with us tomorrow," he changed the subject. 

"Great, now you've told them. Goodbye." I looked away, seeing Sigurd tried to give me a questioning look. I needed to think on this, before we'd talk it out over tea. 

Sigurd read the mood for what it was. "We wanted to talk about Ragnar returning, but as far as I'm concerned it can wait until tomorrow," he said.

"You stay put," I said with more fire than I'd intended. "As soon as Bjorn is gone, I want to talk about it as well."

"First you tell me to be here more, then you're trying to kick me out," Bjorn muttered, leaning back exasperated.

"That's not what she meant, and you know it," Ubbe intervened. "Can you both please focus and forget about your bickering for a second? I for one am interested if you have any idea why he came back after all these years." Ubbe looked at me, as if nothing strange was happening at all. 

Bjorn wasn't going to leave before hearing what I wanted to say, and the twins wouldn't take forever with the dishes. I sighed. "I don't think it's a coincidence he came back. Now he's growing old, I suppose he wants to make amends before his life is over." It was a strangely Christian thing to do, but Athelstan must have been on his mind a lot lately. Only piety and fear over what came after death could move a man to try and fix his previous mistakes...

But Ragnar hadn't trusted in the gods when he had left. He wasn't here for forgiveness, so that left only one thing. He wanted to protect his legacy, the one Bjorn had confronted me over just two weeks back. I'd have to think on this some more before I shared my worries.

"How do you know that?" Bjorn asked. He knew why. Was he baiting me somehow?

"I met my fair share of addicts," I replied, wanting to give him a skewed look. Blast those boys, they were watching me too closely. 

He raised an eyebrow. "Like your brother?" He knew full well I did not want to open that cesspool, not tonight, not today, not ever.

"Don't start with me," I warned him, finger aimed at his smug, arrogant shit face. "I will not sit here and listen as you try to get a rise out of me. You will shut up, or leave. This is my house, not yours." Bjorn was trying to get me all riled up, and it was working.

"Not until we get divorced," he pointed out. My eyes narrowed at his provocation. Ragnar had given me this house to live in, and then Lagertha had made sure I owned it through the marriage contract. Bjorn could force me out as things stood, but it would hurt him more than it would inconvenience me.

"You make it sound like you met her brother once," Hvitserk said to Bjorn. I'd have to come up with some explanation for that soon. Telling them the truth would only make things worse, especially with my brother turning out to be the Harbard that slept with their mother. The one that had let them drown, forcing Siggy to give up her life. Not to mention the damage he had done to Sigurd.

"I thought we were talking about Ragnar, and why he would want to come back," I said as I gave the boys a pointed look. Me cutting off the subject was as much confirmation as they would ever get. 

"Why would father even want to return? He's got nothing left here," Sigurd asked. He was clearly least happy to have seen his father again. After the dumpster fire that Ragnar had left behind, I wasn't that surprised to see this happen. 

"To see what kind of men his sons have become, and probably get revenge for something. You Viking are always looking for revenge, one way or the other."

"What makes you think you know our father so well?" Bjorn asked. 

I kept my face still, not wanting to aggravate him. I had him. This was my chance to swing back at him.Ever since Ragnar had left and Bjorn found out he'd hit Aslaug more than once, he had always vowed to do better. "Because you'd do the same," I said, eyes trained at him.

Bjorn grew silent. I still didn't know how to feel over him almost lashing out at me. That pull of his shoulder was unmistakable. 

"You really think he'd want to go back to England?" Ubbe asked. 

"It might be. He has some business to settle in Francia as well. He could try and join in on the raid to force the issue when you need to meet with Rollo. One thing's for sure, he won't stay in Kattegat long. He's only here to test the waters and get what he needs. Don't think he'll be back for long, or that he's here for you." Even if that was part of the reason why Ragnar had returned, I would not have him break my boys' hearts all over again. 

"Mother always believed he'd come back one day," Ivar said with a caution that was rare for him. 

"Mother is delusional," Sigurd snapped from across the table. "Do you really think they'll get back together? Do you think she'd let him stay? She's much too happy being in power. Besides, even if Ragnar decides to go anywhere, I'm staying here. I don't care what he has to say." From his tone down to his movements, Sigurd believed it. I was proud of him, seeing how much he had changed and grown ever since he had been abandoned. I'd done well for him, after all. I'd been enough.

"But she is our mother!" Ivar shouted. "How can you talk about her like that?"

"She might be a mother to you, but she never paid us any mind," Sigurd spat. "She was always too busy taking care of you to notice us." I knew this was a sore point between Ivar and Sigurd, often ending in things being thrown at each other. It had started out with food and mugs, but had recently escalated to cutlery. With Ragnar back in Kattegat, it could only get worse. 

"I'm going with Bjorn," Hvitserk intervened. He had no desire to get into the shit that was going on between his brothers, either. It would be his first raid as an adult, he'd been looking forward to this ever since he went to Paris. I knew he would do fine, but I still worried for him. Ubbe had taught him most of the things Bjorn had taught Ubbe before his first raid, but I still worried, as any mother would. "I want to raid the Mediterranean."

"We know where we all stand," Ubbe said. "Him coming back hasn't made me change my mind. I'm staying here as well." Some part of him wanted to go along with Bjorn, but he had grown used to bearing too much responsibilities. He was living such a large part of his life for his brothers, even though he told everyone it was to keep his mother safe. I knew him, he would do his part so his siblings could do what they wanted. 

It hurt to realize, but I was a large part of his decision, as well. Ever since Bjorn had left me I had my hands full with the children, and I couldn't take care of his brothers the way I used to. Ubbe had noticed the strain it put on me and had helped out, realizing just how much I had helped him up until then with taking care of his brothers. He deserved to catch a break, but with his father back in town that could be a long time coming. 

"I'm interested in hearing what he has to say," Ivar pondered. "I might go with him." I had always tried to encourage Ivar not to let his disability get in the way, but going raiding had always seemed out of the question. I still remembered the one raid I had joined and knew how hard it could be having two working legs. 

"Then it's decided," Bjorn said. "I'll see you boys tomorrow." He got up and left without another word. My eyes stared daggers in his backside. That man had no right telling the boys secrets they should not have known about to begin with. I wanted to feel relieved to see him go, but a nagging feeling this wasn't over yet took hold of me. Ubbe refilled our mugs, but before he could sit down again the children came back. 

"Dad's gone already?" Thormund asked. He carried the clean dishes to the counter. From where I sat I could see they had rushed through it. "I was hoping he'd be here to ask me if I wanted to join the raid," he said with a sad look on his face. 

"Of course he didn't, he knows mom won't let us leave until we're at least twenty," Siggy said as she hung out the dish rags, rolling her eyes. He's probably off to be with some woman again." A chill ran down my spine. How long had she known? 

"Why would dad want to be with another woman?" Freydis asked. Even the twins knew to not speak a word. She sat down next to me, letting herself fall in my embrace.

"Your father and I have been fighting a lot, so he feels lonely. He wants to spend time with them because we can't comfort each other anymore," I said. 

"Then why don't you spend time with other men?" Thormund asked. "You're lonely, too." 

How could I explain this to the twins without having to tell them Bjorn wanted a divorce? Or did they know about that, too? I'd been able to bear it, as long as the twins never found out. I could deal with the pain, but I had always promised myself that it wouldn't ever hurt them. 

"We know what he wants," Siggy told me. "We're not blind, you know. Why don't you agree? Are you doing it for us? Because you deserve to be happy, too. That's what you always tell us." 

I so did not want to have this conversation with my children today. It just kept getting worse. Siggy sounding this adult about it didn't make any sense, either. Just this evening she had been so happy to see her father, and now she was acting like he was hurting me on purpose.

"Because I'm not ready to let him go. It was very hard for me to live here, you know I was born somewhere else. I had to adapt, and that was difficult. Your dad was one of the few people that could make this world feel like home. I'm not sure if I can survive here without him." It was the truth, but I didn't know where it had come from. Or at the least, it had been the truth once upon a time.

"I'd say you've been doing pretty well," Sigurd offered. "If you don't want to be with him anymore, you should do it." A sadness took over my heart. I didn't want to admit it, but perhaps it was time to at least start thinking of what it could look like if I did release Bjorn from his vows.

"What do they want you to do?" Freydis asked. "Mom?"

"They don't want me to do anything," I said, glancing around the table, making sure they wouldn't contradict me. "But they're wondering why I haven't left your father. That would mean you still have a father, but you won't see him as often."

"Unless we decide to want to live with him," Thormund muttered. 

My heart sank. For twelve years my entire world had revolved around my children. Would the twins really consider leaving me? Could I bear not seeing them every day at breakfast, and at dinner? Could Bjorn even take care of them? He didn't even have any room for beds at his place, and all those women... No, I'd never allow it. He would have to pry them away from my cold, dead hands. 

"I don't want you to have to choose between us. We're your parents, we're supposed to take care of you, not the other way around. I'll have no more talk of this tonight." If this talk continued any longer, I was sure to start crying. 

"Can we go out?" Siggy asked. I got the sense she and Thormund would want to talk. 

"Take Freydis with you. Take some of the leftovers, Happy is sure to love them." They would watch Freydis play with the goats, leaning over the fence. Glad to have been given permission, the twins got up and took Freydis by the hand. "And no more ale, or I'll take away your weapons for a week," I added. "I'll know if you do." The twins sighed and rolled their eyes, probably thinking I was the toughest mom ever. When Bjorn kept allowing them to defy my rules, it was very easy for them to see me as the bogeyman. 

With the children out, I threw my mug against the wall. Anger was easier than sadness, it involved less tears and encouraging words from the boys. "That fucking bastard," I hissed. "Did you know?" 

"Everyone knows about Bjorn," Ivar said, swirling around his cup. 

"Of course everyone knows about Bjorn. I want to know how the twins found out. They're just children."

"They're won't be children for long," Hvitserk said. "At their age, all of us had already gotten our arm rings. From what Bjorn told me..." I wanted to throw something else. Sigurd clasped onto his mug tightly.

"Did Bjorn ever plan on telling me about that? Does he want to take Thormund with him this summer?"

"He'd take Siggy too, but..." 

I threw up my hands in despair. I could strangle that man, preferably with his own hair. "That fucking piece of shit," I cursed. The door opened again, another visitor walking in. I'd have to replace it soon, with all the wear and tear that thing had gone through tonight alone. 

"I hope you weren't talking about me," Ragnar said as he walked up to me. 

I got up and stared at him. Once he might have looked intimidating, but now all I saw was a shell of the man he once was. Dark rings circled his eyes, his markings had faded to grey and had bled out, his clothes made a pig sty smell good by comparison. "I thought I might find the boys here. I was hoping to talk to them." 

Wasn't he glad to see me? Didn't he want to know how I'd been doing, or how his grandchildren were doing? The twins had worn my patience thin, and Bjorn had made me angry. And now, this man whom I used to look up to, the man who had saved my life and for whom I'd gladly have died, just came rolling back into Kattegat acting like nothing was wrong. 

I tried to slap him, but he caught my arm, as if he'd expected me to lash out. As a smirk appeared on his face, I hit him with my other hand. His expression turned to one of surprise. His grip on my arm loosened, and I broke free to pull him into an embrace. For all the anger I felt, I was also relieved to see him alive. 

"How have you been?" I asked as I let go of him. He sighed heavily, then started to wander the house as he took in every detail there was. 

"I would have been better had I found you and Bjorn were still happy." Of course, he was looking for signs of Bjorn still living here. His hands lingered over one of Freydis' dolls, lying on the bench where she'd sat during dinner. 

"Disappointment all around, then," I said with a smile that I knew was too cheerful. I could strangle a bitch. Ivar passed his mug to Ragnar, getting a new one for himself. Ragnar could at least count one of his sons loyal to him. 

"Isn't Siggy too old for dolls?" Ragnar asked as he picked it up, already judging me for not raising her right.

"That's princess Wolfsbane. She's Freydis'," I replied with a smile. His eyes went wide as he stared down at my stomach. "She's six now, almost seven. The twins would love to see you again as well, they don't even remember you." 

"You... I thought..."

"You've been gone a long time, Ragnar. There's much you don't know, no matter how well-informed you think you may be." I knew what he was thinking. If I'd gotten another child, how come Bjorn and I weren't happy? How come none of his things remained here, what could have torn us apart after we survived the death of Kol?

I lowered my eyes, remembering. It had seemed such a tiny thing, hardly worth the mention, but after Bjorn found out I'd explained it all wrong. At first I thought he would calm down and we'd talk it out. Three years and countless tries later... With Ragnar here, things would change. I feared it would be for the worst, tensions had been simmering for a long time now. He was the catalyst, and even from ruin new things could bloom. Bjorn and I still had a chance. 

"At least you kept to some of my advice." I felt his fingers brush through the loose strands of hair, only kept to my back with a simple twin braid from my ears to the middle of my shoulder blades. It was strange to have him show me this kind of loving gesture after he'd yelled at his sons. 

"Did you keep to mine?" Before Ragnar could respond, Hvitserk spoke up. He must have thought whatever we were talking about didn't matter. To him it might not have, but to me and Ragnar this was the core of what had happened ten years ago. We'd talk about it later.

"What did you want to talk about?" 

"I wanted to know if Bjorn had relayed my message. He seemed pretty upset when I saw him walk home just now."

"Bullshit," I called as I took my seat. "You know Bjorn would tell them. Why are you here?" He hadn't just come to test me, and I would rather force the issue than have it play out on its own. 

"Still as sharp as ever, I notice." He cast me a rueful smile. "Okay, fine. I wanted to know how you were holding up. I heard some disturbing things about Bjorn. I wanted to see if you knew." 

I scoffed. "You think I didn't know? The only reason I am mad at Bjorn is because the children found out. They now feel like they have to choose between us. They are the ones pushing me for divorce, apparently. My daughter had to be the one to tell me they knew. They practically scolded me for not having divorced him already, in front of Freydis. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel? I am supposed to protect them. They look to me and see a strong mother. Now I must decide if I show them strength by leaving, or by staying."

"That's not what you said before," Ivar pointed out. 

"Because earlier, the children were here. I want them to see Bjorn for the man he is, and not judge him for how he treats me." Then, I turned to Ragnar again. "One last chance, old man. Why have you come?"

"You already know the answer," Ragnar said with a wave of his hand. "I'm just curious to see what the boys have to say." I turned around, seeing the boys looked puzzled. Ragnar wanted to know if they could figure it out for themselves. He hadn't been back for half a day, and already he was putting them to the test for the second time. It seemed he hadn't changed much, at least as far as this was concerned. Ubbe was the first to get it, smirking at his own wit. I wondered if he got it right. He hadn't gotten involved in any high-risk games ever since he'd become an adult. 

"Oh, come on. It's not that hard," I scolded, not wanting it to drag out. "He heard Bjorn and I were on the outs. He's here to size me up, to try and find out where my loyalties lie."

"Why would he want to size you up, auntie?" On moments like these, it was very clear Ivar was the youngest, only a few years older than my twins. At fourteen, he was still quick to goad into responding, only made worse by the constant fretting of his mother. He had no idea how the world worked outside of Kattegat, or the great hall for that matter.

"Because when he left, I was happily married to his eldest son. I practically raised you as my own. He wants to see for himself if I still take care of you, and if you heed my counsel. I've told you before, always ask yourself what the other has to gain. Knowledge is power."

"You tell us a great many things, Auntie. How am I supposed to remember everything?"

"You could start by getting that stick out of your ass. You might be smart, but that doesn't mean you know anything. Every now and then you can try and accept your limitations, instead of trying to bullrush through everything in life." Sigurd only poorly managed to hide a smile, as did Hvitserk. Only Ubbe kept a straight face.

"It's not fair," Ivar scowled. "I barely remember him."

"And yet you are the first to speak, letting Ragnar know exactly how little you understand, and forcing me to spill how much influence I have on the boy who listens to me the least."

"I'm not a boy anymore," Ivar grunted. He kept his eyes on his mug, as if that would keep me from noticing how angry he was at me. He was still too quick to anger, Bjorn should've invested more time into him. The moment he moved out, all of our plans had come to a grinding halt. 

"Then start acting like a man," I said. 

Ragnar chuckled at my rebuke. "How is it you still know me so well after all these years?" he asked me. 

This was meant as a lesson to Ivar, not an introduction course for Ragnar on how I kept his sons in check. "Have you been to Hedeby yet?" I asked to change the subject. He turned to his cup as well. He either hadn't wanted to see Lagertha, or he was postponing because he wasn't sure how she would react. 

"I decided to come and see my sons first." He had been postponing. "Thank you for the ale." He got up, put his hand on my shoulder for a second, then left. 

"You slapped him?" Sigurd asked as the door fell shut. "Are you insane? What if he'd hit you back?"

"He'd be disappointed if I hadn't."

"But still..."

"If he had, wouldn't you have jumped up to protect me? Then Ragnar would have a tough time trying to convince you to come with him, wherever he may want to go. We both knew that. It was basically a pissing contest." One that he couldn't have won. Perhaps it had been childish of me.

"I don't like it when you use us like that," Ubbe said. 

"You are the sons of Ragnar, princes in your own right. If you don't know how to play the game, you will always be used. Sometimes you have to bleed to get stronger." At least this play had been fairly harmless to them and their standing. It felt nice to teach them things like this. It kept me from needing to think about what would happen when Bjorn became king. Thormund would follow in his footsteps, bypassing the boys. 

"You know, you can be a real bitch," Hvitserk snarled. I just laughed. 

"What's wrong? Do you still like to think of me as the soft-spoken woman who raised you? Do you want to tell me about flying boats that chase around the stars? Now that Ragnar is back, you must decide for yourselves what kind of men you want to become. Do you want to use your power for your own gain? Do you want to follow your dreams of exploring and raiding new lands? What are you willing to sacrifice to achieve that?"

"Then what kind of woman have you become, sacrificing your own happiness to keep living in a fantasy?" Ivar taunted. 

My blood turned cold. "Do you think me weak for wanting my children to be happy? How do you think that is weakness?"

"Choosing for yourself is strength. You should leave him." Anyone else might have told me that and I would have listened, but Ivar was speaking out of frustration. 

"There are others that still depend on both of us, and I will always put their needs in front of my own." Having them all here, so soon after Ragnar had come back, they must have realized that applied to them as well as my children. 

"Come on, brothers," Ubbe said, standing up. "I think Auntie has given us quite enough to think about." They had given me enough to think about, as well. The boys got up and thanked me for dinner. 

"If you run into the twins, tell them to come home. I have to explain some things to them."

"Are you sure you want to do that tonight?" Sigurd asked. 

"It has to happen someday, and I'd rather get it over with before their father leaves for the Mediterranean. They should be able to ask him about his side before he leaves. I just want them to know what it would mean for them if I decide to divorce Bjorn. I don't think I can keep it from them any longer. At the very least, they deserve the truth." The boys all towered over me, as their brother did. Surrounded by them, I felt they wanted my suffering to be over. Even Ivar, who didn't seem to know why I was still clinging to Bjorn, looked sorrowful. At the least he saw I was in pain, and somehow felt bad for me. He'd turned out for the better, since Bjorn and I had taken him under our wing more.

"Now get going," I said before they would launch an assault of support and well-meant words. "You have better things to do than worry about me." As I closed the door behind them, I waited for their footsteps to move away from the door. No doubt they'd come rushing back in if they heard me crying or shouting, suddenly remembering they left something lying around. They knew me well, but I was the one who raised them.


	3. Desperation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-03-815

The twins took the news of a possible divorce well, but they didn't mention Bjorn anymore when I was around. Their father, in turn, had given me the stink-eye. Trying to relieve the tension, I'd gone to the range and shot at some targets the boys had put up some years ago. Bjorn would leave soon, but I didn't want him to leave with us fighting over something. The last time we hadn't said goodbye at the docks, I'd lost a child. I had no intention of ever losing another one.

As I nocked the last arrow from my quiver, I heard someone approaching. I turned around, pointing the arrow at Bjorn. He stood still, arms across his chest. I scowled, then lowered the bow. He didn't look half as imposing as he thought he did.

He eyed me for a moment, then started to circle me. "I'm surprised you're still practicing. It's not like you ever go raiding." He was planning on something, but I didn't know what he could be throwing at me. After he almost slapped me, he'd held his distance. Even he hadn't believed what he'd almost done, that much was clear from seeing his face after. 

"Do I have to kill someone to enjoy myself? If so, I could use a fresh target," I said as I glanced back, seeing him disappear from the corner of my eye. Crap. I'd gotten rid of most of the snow on the ground around me from walking up and down the range. He didn't make a sound. 

"What did you tell the twins?" Bjorn asked, his voice sounding closer than I liked. Everything about him radiated danger. I'd never seen him like this before. My knuckles turned white from clutching my bow. 

"I told them what it would mean for them if we got divorced," I said as he came into sight. "If they have questions for you they deserve an answer before you're gone. What did they ask?" I swallowed back an insult, knowing how eager Bjorn was to lash out and yell at me again. 

"Are you serious about getting divorced?" Another cut across my heart, etching away at my love for him. Nothing of the softness I had thought to see last week remained.

"Are you serious about taking the twins raiding?" I asked.

"Only Thormund," he said as if to ease my mind. 

"And leave Siggy behind? You would dare set them apart like that?" Fucking Vikings and their ideas of equality... Free as I was to do what I wanted, the social divide was still huge. The only power I held over Bjorn was not releasing him from his vows, while he could make my life a living hell - and yet, he hadn't. Aside from the cheating, there was nothing he'd done to hurt me. 

"Siggy is still a child."

"Just because she hasn't bled yet. That could take years, you can't hold her back because I was late bleeding. She's smarter than Thormund, and she can hold her own just as well. Siggy will never forgive you if you don't take her along."

"So now you want me to take them?" His circles tightened the longer we kept fighting.

"Don't be ridiculous. I want you to treat them as equals. For all your talk of how women are free, you can be such a sexist."

"We're not in your time, Maria," he snapped. I hated it when he called me that, and he knew it. Why did he want to get a rise out of me? What would happen if I called him Ironside now? "Why do you hold on to that?"

"Because it's a part of who I am!" Our eyes met, the slow, soft anger hiding inside him winning out from my raging flare. I didn't want to fight him, at all. "It's been a part of who we are ever since you found out."

"Don't try and pull that crap on me. You know it's over." 

Had Bjorn come to ask me for a divorce again? Only last week he hesitated when I dropped the word. If he was, we'd need to have a serious talk about the kids, and the property we owned. So much had changed since we had married, we would need to have a stern talk about all of it, the children most of all. 

With normal couples it might've been easy to stick to the agreements of over a decade past, but Bjorn and I were richer than Aslaug and the boys. As the leader of the raids, Bjorn had the right of the spoils, him handing off anything to Aslaug was more out of courtesy than anything else. She could always pick from the most flashy objects, and under my watchful eye, the traders made a fair deal for them. Usually, she kept plates and cutlery made of gold, but that was just a facade. 

Then I got a third of what was left of the hoard, Bjorn got another third, and the rest was buried in the nearby hills. The only reason I agreed to that was that I had more than enough to take care of myself and the twins. My own hiding places were starting to get cramped, I'd have to hand off a bit again to those in need to make room for the riches that would come from the Mediterranean. 

I didn't feel calm enough to compromise 

I didn't want to let go of Bjorn. 

I still remembered him promising to love me forever. I still remembered the words he spoke when he made me realize he wasn't just a boy. He'd trusted me completely, back then. We had gone through so much, we even survived losing a son... I had survived, and I had forgiven him for that. When we got married, we had sworn to the gods to stay faithful, and I wouldn't give up on a promise to the gods that easily.

"We're still married," I shot back. "Maybe we should wait to talk about it until you get back. If that's what you want." 

"What, so you can cash out one last time?" he taunted. I raised my bow again, aiming for Bjorn's heart. My fingers itched to release. As I saw his hard stare, the total lack of fear in his posture, I realized he didn't think I'd do it. Letting the arrow fly just to prove him wrong would be senseless. I could do it, I knew it. All the anger I felt towards him was strong enough. Even the sliver of hope in my heart couldn't keep me back now the bloodlust was pumping through my veins.

But I'd take their father away from our children. They didn't deserve him to end like this. I would regret taking the shot for the rest of my life, which would be considerably short. It would put Aslaug in complete control, my children would lose their rightful place in the line of succession. I had to keep sight of the bigger picture, and fighting off the bloodlust had become easier over the years. The few times it threatened to overtake me, Aslaug and Vinh had both been in my line of sight. 

I sighed and lowered my bow again. "Oh, how the mighty have fallen," I murmured. If the bloodlust could put me over the edge to kill Bjorn... What would I even do if I did manage to kill him? I turned around and started to walk towards the targets. Bjorn had no idea what I was capable of, what kind of woman I'd become. We hadn't grown apart, we'd needed that break but now everything could turn around again. It had to be like that, I couldn't give up on him. 

"What's the matter? Don't have the guts? I knew you couldn't do it."

"After all the shit you've done? I'd kill you in a heartbeat." I scowled at myself, hating how the anger inside of me made me say things. I pulled arrows out of the deer carcass. Two arms grabbed hold of me, one across my shoulders and the other around my waist. 

"Bjorn, what are you -" 

"Where did that fire go?" he whispered in my ear. "I haven't heard you talk so passionately about us for years. All you do is shout about the kids. When did you stop shouting about me?" I tried to free myself, but Bjorn was still much stronger than me. And maybe, just maybe, I didn't give it my all. 

I stepped on his foot, but the soft boots I wore barely made him feel a thing. "I shout about you all the time," I grunted. 

"Not for the right reasons." His hips pushed against the small of my back. He was hard.

I didn't want to know where this was going. The way Bjorn touched me was familiar. It hurt, how I yearned for it. I wanted him back, but not like this.

"Have you gone through all the women in Kattegat yet? Are you so desperate to feel your cock inside me, just to feel something else?" I managed to get an elbow into his gut, but he took hold of my arms, twisting them behind my back. 

His voice was soft, but I felt the heat of his breath near my ear. "Is this not what married people do? How long has it been? Three years, four?" Like he didn't know. Freydis' birthday was coming up, it was two weeks away from four years.

"You won't even let me tell you why," I grunted, fed up with his games. My shoulder hit his chest, but he didn't even flinch. "You piece of shit, let me go!"

His grip on my arms grew tighter as his fingers slid over my bodice. "Don't you want me to touch you? What's the worst you could do, divorce me?" 

My heart sank. Was he capable of doing something like that, just to hurry the divorce along? I didn't want to think it was possible. I tried to fight him off with everything I had, but he still managed to get me to the ground with ease. 

The tufts of warm air that came from my mouth mixed in with his. "Would you really stoop this low?" I spat. He pinned down my wrists. "I should have killed you when I had the chance." I jerked up a knee, but he blocked it. He pulled my arms up so he could hold them with a single hand, then let a hand slide over my chest. 

His breathing grew ragged. His breath felt clammy on my skin. The moment he got too close I went in for a headbutt, but he avoided it, his eyes catching a glint of joy.

Trying to fight him only made him more determined. The only way I could fight back was by not resisting. Even if he only meant to scare me by showing his dominance over me, he would not come to enjoy it. 

I relaxed, giving up any semblance of resistance, forcing myself not to shiver. This would only work if Bjorn still had any feelings left for me. Even a smidge of friendship would mean I was safe. His hand descended further down.

"What's the matter? You want it now?" He pulled up my skirts, but I didn't do anything about it. My hands lay where he left them, unattended, my eyes turned to the sky. He lowered himself onto me. His pants were down. 

"What are you doing?" He nuzzled my neck, kissing the line of my collarbone. I used to love it when he did that. I still did. "Don't you still want us to be together?" I did. It hurt to force my breathing. I didn't want my hands to remain above my head. His cock moved between my legs, eager to strike. Already I felt his precum leaking out. He didn't enter, though. "Won't you beg for me?" I focused on my heartbeat. His lips crashed into mine, one of his hands finding my breasts. My nipples hardened of their own accord. "You used to love it when I made you beg for it."

Bjorn kept teasing me, thinking I would give in. He was probably right. I'd never been good at resisting his touch. The sliver of hope in my heart kept tugging at me, telling me this was what I wanted. My full attention was with the tip of his cock, waiting for him to go further as he continued kissing and teasing me. 

"Why won't you beg for me!" All he had to do was thrust his hips, and he would be inside me. The tip was already in place, waiting to thrust in, to bury itself deep inside of me. "Beg for me! You stupid fucking cunt!" I could feel droplets of spit falling on my face. "Don't make me fucking do it! I'll destroy you!"

He had no intention of making love to me. He just wanted to hurt me. He wanted to show how much power he held over me. As the realization hit, I felt tears burning behind my eyes. 

"Stupid bitch!" That word had always been enough to get me angry. I felt it now, trying to get me to lash out. I had to fight down so many instincts, but I held firm. Bjorn would never hurt me physically. He couldn't...

"Bjorn!" a voice shouted. His weight shifted, but I kept my eyes closed. He got off me, grunting and muttering. "Bjorn, what in the name of Odin are you doing?" It was Lagertha. What was she doing here? Bjorn stormed off, Lagertha staring after him.

I lowered my skirts and wiped off the lone tears in my eyes. He'd scared me, that was all. Nothing had really happened. No reason to break down and start crying. The kids expected me back by now, judging by the sun. They needed me. 

I took a deep breath, not wanting to see Bjorn march away. If it hadn't been for Lagertha, would he still have stopped in time? Would he... 

Just the word was filth. It made me shiver. I wanted to bathe, with no one around for miles. 

"What was that all about?" Lagertha asked, confusion written all over her face. She meant to touch my face, but I backed away. Old instincts. People would notice. Lagertha did, her eyes seeing something I wasn't planning on showing. 

Last time I'd been this close to being assaulted I had Bjorn to run to. He'd held me close, comforted me. Then after, he'd threatened him to stay away from me. If we hadn't been in Uppsala, he'd have broken every bone in his body. Bjorn had been my safety. But now...

"We talked." I resumed pulling out the arrows I shot earlier and put them back in my quiver. It was easier to lie to her when I didn't look her in the eye. The shock of what had just happened slowly died down, turning into a storm in my heart. If Bjorn had done it... He knew what it would mean to me, how much it would ruin me. 

Lagertha didn't even scoff at my diversion, seeing me grit my teeth to keep my lip from shaking. I took a deep breath to steady my breathing, for all the good it did me. 

"Are you hurt?" She brushed some snow and dirt from my dress, but the skirt would need a good wash to get clean. The ground was starting to thaw, and with the snow melting underneath me it had turned to thick mud.

"I'm fine. Though it might have gone differently had you not come by. What brought you out here in the first place?" 

She blinked once, twice. "I came to wish my son good fortune, but it seems he doesn't have conquest on his mind yet." The range was at least fifteen minutes on foot. Going here to look for Bjorn didn't make any sense. 

"I said I would agree to divorce him if he asked again." As far as I was concerned, this was him asking. 

I cast Lagertha a sideways glance, trying to get a read on her. She was taking quite a risk, being here this early in the year. For her sake, I hoped she had left Torvi in charge to oversee the sowing of the new harvest. We walked back to Kattegat, my bow and quiver slung across my shoulder. 

"I assume you know Ragnar's back?" I asked, changing the subject. 

"Yes, he came to visit me. He wanted to know if I'd sail to Wessex with him."

"And naturally you declined." I didn't have to see her face to know the truth of that. Lagertha wouldn't sail for England if it was the last place to be safe from Ragnarök. 

"What makes you say that?" 

I held back, knowing it wasn't a good idea to bring up her past with Ecbert. She'd kept it to herself, what had happened there. As was her right, but I'd gotten very little information on him over the years. Calling Ecbert elusive was an understatement, and that meant he was a worthy adversary. The only party who was just as careful with their most basic secrets was someone to the east, in Novgorod. They'd built up some sturdy defenses while everyone and their mother went raiding elsewhere. The East would never be the same again.

"You have heard the same rumors as I have about Ecbert taking over most of the south, keeping a standing army at the ready. Ragnar might be willing to risk it all, but you have more to live for." It was a fool's gambit, hoping to get revenge for the settlement with fifty men against a trained army. Part of the reason the Viking were so successful was that the places we went to filled their armies with farmers and young boys. They often had to bring their own weapons, too. 

"I should have known better than to underestimate you," Lagertha said with a kind smile. She knew of my network, we'd used it plenty over the years to pass on messages that seemingly made no sense to the merchants - not that they complained, with the rewards it got them. Kattegat hadn't been the only town to thrive.

"Bjorn should know better than to underestimate me," I said, growing sullen. My mind lingered on what he'd done. The shock and fear turned into anger. He'd better have a damn good apology for me when I saw him again. Had he been anyone else... No one would have found his body.

By the time we caught up on small talk, we were back at the entrance of the town. It had grown so much in the years Bjorn had led the raids. Still, I felt uneasy. There were a lot of strangers constantly hanging around, selling goods and buying treasure, asking all kinds of questions. I had seen smaller communities than this that had at least some form of defenses. I noticed Lagertha was looking around as well, her look never lingering long. She must have wondered why I hadn't succeeded in getting up a wall. 

"Tell me, how has Aslaug been doing?" she asked.

"She's pushing the boys to get married. Wants them to have children to carry on the line. And of course, Ivar can do no wrong in her eyes."

"Helping him from one disability to another," Lagertha sighed. She had no idea how right she was. Getting Aslaug to consent with the plan to get Bjorn to train Ivar had gone at the cost of having a wall built, shoving both down her throat would have been too much. She was the bottleneck that stood in front of the progress we could make. As things stood now, Kattegat would collapse from the lack of adequate leadership. If Lagertha were to rule here... Maybe she would have better luck smacking some sense into Bjorn as well. 

"He mostly listens to Bjorn, sometimes Ubbe. Floki knows just what to whisper in his ear, but he's not around enough to make a real difference. I try talking to him from time to time, but I'm not sure how much good that has done."

"Well, you are the woman who got my earldom usurped, just by being kind to a stranger." I scoffed at the memories of Erlendur and my brother trying to kill my family. Erlendur had lost his mind in the end, thinking I was something beyond human. I wasn't remorseful over Bjorn having killed him, he'd saved me just in time. "If anyone has had a positive influence on Ivar, I assume it to be yours."

I wasn't sure about that. Ivar clung to his mother too much to pay me any mind. He'd never come to me for a talk by himself, and he rarely joined us for dinner. Whenever the boys stayed over it was mostly Sigurd and Hvitserk; Ubbe only joined in when there was something he needed advice on. It was good for the twins to hear us talk about it, they would need to get to know the game soon enough. As much as I wanted to postpone... With Ragnar back, I might not have a choice in the matter. 

"He's thinking of joining Ragnar. He's eager to go raiding with his father. Or anyone at all."

"It was bound to happen sometime. I hope Ragnar won't fill his head with tall talk and idle fantasies. It won't do him any good." 

I cast her a furtive look. Since when did she care about Ivar's well-being? 

Lagertha didn't dignify my look with a response. "I heard there was a feast tonight. Will you join us?"

I'd have to sit beside Bjorn, whom I'd rather avoid. Still, it was to celebrate Lagertha's arrival and the impending departure. She was trying to make it sound like I had a choice, but there wasn't one. Having me absent would cause a tiny uproar.

"I couldn't keep the twins away if I tried. Do you mind coming with to pick them up? I'm sure they'll be glad to see their grangran again." I smirked at Lagertha's sour expression. 

"I'll see them later. I want to talk to Bjorn first." No doubt she'd scold him for what he tried to do. At least it would make it easier for me to deal with having to spend the evening by his side.


	4. Unhinged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-03-815  
> Aslaug's POV

The gods never smiled at me. They were cruel, and vicious, and I had accepted my place in the stories as nothing but a vague mention. After my death, my name would become an insignificant detail in the stories, the one thread holding the stories of the Lothbroks together. Volsung blood and stock meant nothing compared to the Lothbroks. 

Me being a part of it was a joke. The only reason Ragnar had ever shown interest in me was that he wanted more sons. No one loved me, never had, not as I wanted. It made me bitter, more so since Ivar had been born. That’s when I’d found out just how few friends I truly had in this godsforsaken fishing village. All that remained now was the love I felt for my sons. Only Ivar loved me back as I deserved.

I gave Siggy a wide smile. The girl was everything I despised in Ragnhild and Lagertha, combined into one snotty brat with all the bravery that came with youth. She would change as soon as she would see battle, beg me to teach her about dresses and weaving and how to act like a lady.

She leaned back in her seat, slumping down like a farm girl. "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, of course!" I leaned back too, loving how the back rooms of my hall provided me with the privacy I needed. Not everything was meant to be known to Ragnhild and my step-son. "Your father would love it if you came over more. I still remember how much he doted on you when you were born, he loves you very much."

I had doted on her myself. After four sons there was something magical about holding a little girl in your arms, but once again Ragnhild had managed to ruin it all. Siggy should have been born a man. Not that I bothered correcting Ragnhild's mistakes. Having a daughter like Siggy only hurt her status. As soon as she bled she would dishonor the whole kingdom, just for choosing to wield a blade over a sewing needle. The girl was nothing like my mother, and she would never be good enough to become a shieldmaiden of renown.

"I don't know... We usually see him when we're training, or when he invites us for dinner." Bjorn hardly showed interest in his children beyond their fighting prowess. Ragnhild resented him for it, but she didn't do anything to make it better, either. 

That woman was the crowning jewel in the cruel fate the gods weaved for me. Only four years younger than me, everyone revered her for her wisdom. Half her knowledge wasn't useful at all, and she didn't know everything. Lagertha had taught her our laws, to the point she knew when to break them in her favor. It made her dangerous, even though she had no direct power. As soon as she divorced Bjorn, she would be left with her connection to the gods. They didn't care for her much, not anymore.

"In fact, why not go up there right now? He told me he would be home all day. Bjorn would love to see you." A cheerful tone was enough to get the girl to do as I wanted. And right now, she got up to discover Bjorn had company over. One of my closest servants, to be exact. After I found out about Leda's little crush on Bjorn, I'd known what to do.

"Alright, if he's really that lonely..." She came up for a hug, something I could barely understand. Siggy had no respect for the fact I was queen, as did her mother. And both of them had bleeding hearts. It would destroy them, in time. I'd get Ragnhild out of Kattegat soon. Once Bjorn would marry another woman, she would leave. That was what Lagertha had done, and Ragnhild was too much like her mother-in-law in that regard. I'd find Bjorn a suitable bride in no time. It was best for the kingdom. Ragnhild had to leave, sooner rather than later. She would be the end of us all.

As Siggy left my rooms I got up. The sword of kings, the lie Ragnhild came up with, looked magnificent as always. And most beautiful of all was the fact it was mine. Bjorn could keep his raids and conquests, I was happy to rule these lands as it pleased me. Ever since Ragnar left we had prospered. The people were content with my rule, they thought me fair and just. Only Ragnhild complained that things could be better. 

She always strived for perfection, to the point of stupidity. Who needed a wall when we had brave men and women defending us? Harald's threats were a decade old. It was just an idle threat, one he wasn't willing to act on. I had bigger worries than him, anyway.

After the shit Ragnhild had pulled in Uppsala, refusing the honor to officiate, calling me a bad mother, and an even worse queen... She was arrogant and manipulative. Even as a slave she had acted petulant and disrespectful. I should've killed her back then. She wasn't here to save us. Her changing the fate of the Viking referred to her causing our downfall.

I still dreamed of it. Ragnarök would come for us. We would all die, huddled together in the Interior to try and fight off the cold. Vultures would circle our skin-and-bone children, being hunted by what could only be Christians. She'd been raised as one herself, like her disgusting brother, and her so-called newfound piety did not move me. Once a Christian, always a Christian. Ragnar's pet had taught me that much.

And my plea for help had been answered when the gods sent her. From time to come, knowing all about our fate, and refusing to share her wisdom about the gods with anyone but herself. The gods were known to err, but a little help to get rid of her would’ve been nice. Now I had to take the fates into my own hand. Everyone here would be better off without her, down to her children. They needed to be raised Viking so they could help my sons when they were old enough.

Even Bjorn didn't support her like he used to. He had stood up against her, teaching Ivar how to use the bow, showing him how to be a man. He'd done right by my son, in a way she could only dream of. As much as I hated him, I was dependent on Bjorn. At least Ragnhild wasn't his weakness anymore. 

My hand slid on to the marital sword I had given Ragnar at our ceremony. It looked pathetic, rust stains forming as the dampness of winter's end tore through the hall. It was only fitting. Ever since Ivar was born our marriage had fallen apart. He'd never bothered asking me for my advice on most things, and that had been his doom. Ragnar had brought it all on himself, the gods had punished him for sleeping with that foreign whore. 

He'd only chosen me because he wanted Ubbe in his life. His heart still belonged to Lagertha, and I had been nothing but a breeding mare. And after ten years... It was time to accept that my husband would never return. I'd get the girls to get rid of every scrap of evidence that Ragnar had ever been king here. He deserved no glory after abandoning me and my sons. They would complain, but after all these years of taking care of them, they wouldn't go against me.

"My queen?" I looked up. The girl looked terrified. "The king is back."

My heart sank. The blood slowly drained from my face. After Uppsala, I'd been sure... "That can't be," I said. He wouldn't dare come back here. 

"He's in the square out front."

A chill ran down my spine. "Leave," I said through gritted teeth. As the woman turned away, the swords clattered to the floor, scraping the wood. I wouldn't bow down to Ragnar Lothbrok. The time had come for him to bow down to me, Queen Aslaug of Kattegat. I wouldn't come out to see him as a commoner. I was better than that. I deserved more.

I poured a cup of wine and positioned myself on my throne in the hall. The rich, fresh furs looked magnificent compared to the shabby ones on his. Ragnhild called it petty, but I didn't care. Ragnar hadn't even bothered saying goodbye before he left, he didn't care about the throne, either.

I could hear Ragnar shouting. If he would do that to me, I would kill him with the fake sword. I would ram it through him, twisting it as it was buried deep inside him. Ragnar would die a violent death, that much I'd seen. His eyes would be wide with terror right before he lost his life. 

The crowd dispersed, passing by the open doors of the hall, but he didn't come to see me. Excited flurries of conversation told me it had been quite the sight. I'd hear all about it over dinner. Ragnar had to eat something.

"Mother?" Ubbe poked his head in through the hall, almost shouting. He didn't want this to be a long conversation.

"What is it?" No doubt Ragnar had asked him to come and fetch me. As if. 

"We're eating at Auntie's tonight."

"But your father -"

"Left with Bjorn. He won't be back until later." I restrained myself. Throwing things around would not help my case. Still, my knuckles turned white as I squeezed the armrests.

"Then I suppose it'll just be me and Ivar, then. Again."

"Actually..." I got up, grunting at the insolence. I needed more wine if I was to sup alone tonight. Now his father was back, it seemed Ivar didn't need me anymore. He left me, just like his brothers all had.

It mattered not. They were still my sons, and Ubbe and Ivar would rule after me. I would not leave my legacy to decay as Ragnar had done. They would make Kattegat even richer.

Everyone seemed to adjust to his return already, and here I was, alone with my sorrows. No one ever asked me how I thought on matters like these or invited me to join in on family dinners. Not that I'd attend if Ragnhild asked, but I wanted to have something to throw back in her face. Every time I brought up her dead son she would walk out, as if that helped. She had no backbone.

The boy had been the bane of my existence ever since I knew he existed. The vision I had, it had terrified me. Having to bury the boy, by myself, nothing more but fragments left of his skull... I'd been right not to tell her. Bjorn would have stayed, or made it back in time somehow, and they would hate me for it all the same. 

My visions were meant to brace yourself. I was certain of it, as I was certain of Ragnhild being here was a warning to brace ourselves for the end of our people. Getting her out of town was the only protection I could give my sons. It might buy them enough time to live their lives without having to witness Ragnarök.

Loneliness filled my bones as I waited for Ragnar to find me. Days passed before he finally dared show his face. He approached from behind, wary as if a sudden movement could set me off. His hands found my shoulders, rubbing them softly. I used to love his back rubs.

"I'm sorry for all that I put you through. I have been a terrible husband, and yet you have not let our sons hate me. For that, I am grateful." That was it? A mention about our sons? No thanks for keeping together his kingdom?

"Ragnar." I tried to turn around, but he started pulling out the braids in my hair. I'd spent hours getting it to perfection for three days, and he just played around with it. 

"Shh. I know. You hate me. I hate myself, too." I would not be belittled like this. I stood up, ready to tell him off, but shouting voices interrupted. The gods truly hated me.

"Bjorn!" That was Lagertha's voice. "You will listen to me! What has gotten into you!" Ragnar took a few steps in their direction but froze as he saw me staring daggers. This was when he begged me to forgive him, and I would turn him down.

"You can't tell me what to do anymore! I'm not a child!" Bjorn's boots sounded like a war drum.

I wanted to shut them up, but this must have been the result of the plan I'd set in motion. They were heading towards the back, the corner that Bjorn used for planning his raids. Ragnar was just as surprised as I was. 

"She is your wife!" Good. Lagertha sounded ready to rip off his head. They would divorce soon. Ragnar didn't have to put his finger to his lips to make it clear he wanted us to listen in.

"Only because she refuses to divorce me," I heard Bjorn spit. "The woman keeps me chained to a rock!"

Lagertha's voice was ice, barely audible. "That's no reason to try and rape her." 

Ragnar and I exchanged looks, both unsettled with this accusation. They had been working towards a split themselves. This couldn't have been about Siggy finding out about his cheating. I was certain the girl would run to her mother with that news.

"I couldn't rape her if I tried. She still wants me." Bjorn only spoke with such disdain when it came to his father leaving. What had gone on between them?

"Can you even hear yourself talking? That is not how that works, at all! And you know that! This about your ego, not her. You wanted to hurt her for bringing up a divorce, didn't you?" Ragnar's eyes went wide. I had to contain a smile.

"I was on my way back from the Seer," Bjorn said as if that ended the discussion. I imagined Lagertha gave him a menacing look. She was good at those. "He foretold that she is the harbinger of my biggest failing."

He wanted her gone, too. Somehow he'd gotten the idea that he could escape his fate by getting rid of her. He was a fool, to think the gods would allow such a thing to happen. They hadn't seen fit to save me from their cruel fates, and he would not fare much better. 

"And you know as well as I do that you cannot trust the Seer's words to ring true. He told me I would find happiness in England. Do you truly think all he says comes true? Things around us change, because of her. You know that better than anyone, you got a barren woman pregnant again!" Her comment made him snort. 

Lagertha was right, though. Who knew what else she had changed, and how that would turn on us one day. If she could change the fates the gods had woven for us... She was an even greater danger than I thought. She would get us all killed if she stuck around for much longer. She needed to go.

"Ragnhild threatened to kill me before you got there, did she tell you that? And the Seer told me strange things about her before, too. You know he speaks for the gods."

So I hadn't been the only one that had gone to him recently. The Seer had told me in no uncertain terms that I was right to be wary of the women in Bjorn's life. But he also had said that a queen would rule Kattegat by herself, soon. I glanced at Ragnar, wondering how he would die. Would he even make it to England?

"Don't change the subject. You still love her, don't you?"

"You don't know that!" He loved to shout when he felt like he had something to prove, as if being loud meant he was more right. He'd never been this wrong. Even after all these years of him cheating on her, he'd never do anything to harm her. It was the reason I had to tread lightly.

"And neither do you, apparently." Lagertha's calm voice cut through me like a blade. She knew exactly where to cut to make it hurt. No wonder Ragnar hadn't stopped loving her. She would never be truly weak. "You know what she's been through. She's not the same scared little girl anymore, and neither are you ignorant of her past."

"You weren't there."

"I saw enough. I heard her side of the story. And I believe her."

"Over me?" Bjorn chuckled at the idea. 

"Yes. I know you, and I know her. What could possibly have possessed you to drive her away like that? Do you want her to move away with the children? I would welcome her in Hedeby with open arms." Lagertha was free to have her. From there, neither of them could hurt me.

"The children can choose to stay here." 

"You can't take care of them. You can't expect to have Aslaug take them in when you're off south."

"Then I'll take them with me." Bjorn sounded pathetic. I'd never heard him speak so petulantly.

"Even Freydis? If you think that will work, you are an even greater fool than I thought. And I didn't raise a fool. Ragnhild didn't fall in love with a fool, and she wouldn't have married one twice." Twice? I caught Ragnar stealing a glance. He had known. That rumor was so old it could have his own arm ring by now, but apparently, it was true.

"I'm not a fool, mother."

"Then stop acting like one. You fucked up, Bjorn. Don't try and deny it. You may just have pushed her away for good." That was music to my ears. Bjorn miserable, at war with his mother, and their precious godsend off to another land. I should've done this years ago.

"What are you smiling about?" Ragnar whispered, barely audible.

"You missed a lot, husband. Don't act so surprised."

"I never knew you to take pleasure from other people's hurt." There was ice in his voice and eyes. I leered at him, wanting to focus on the other conversation again.

Bjorn burst out in a fit of anger that bothered him more often. "Then maybe she should go away!" 

A hard slap echoed through the hall. "Don't you dare say that out loud again. I won't have you disrespect the mother of my grandchildren like that. She saved your life plenty of times, and even now she refuses to take you to the Thing and put you on trial for all you have. Do you really think Aslaug won't side with her? Ivar is her life, and the only reason he even made it through his first days is Ragnhild!" A blatant misinterpretation of the facts, but I would enjoy seeing Bjorn go destitute.

"You don't know what you're talking about," Bjorn muttered.

"No, you're the one that's ignorant. All she ever did was love you, and keep you alive, and support you. Those were your words when I was the one in doubt over her. And then you try to rape her." 

My breathing stopped. No, that couldn't be. He would never... Ragnar's eyes widened too, just as confused. He wanted to walk towards his son, but I grabbed his arm. If they knew we'd been listening in things would only get worse. 

"She pulled plenty of crap over the years, you don't know what goes on behind closed doors!"

"I don't care what she did, I didn't raise you to behave like this! If I hadn't found you, you would've done it!"

"I left that woman because I couldn't believe how much she'd been lying to me!"

No one knew what had pushed Bjorn away from her, not even Helga. Had I found out I would've been able to drive this wedge between them much sooner. Vinh and I had often speculated, it must have had something to do with the son they lost, or her turning out to be barren all the same. Freydis had been a gift from the gods, to hear Ragnhild tell the tale. 

The girl unnerved me for a number of reasons, but most of all it was because she resembled her mother in her looks. Siggy had the same hair, but somehow she had ended up with green eyes, which must have come from her side of the family somewhere. Freydis with her blue eyes and same blond hair was the one that would be her mirror image once she'd grown up. With her composure, the girl would be deadlier than her mother.

"I know enough," Lagertha said. It cost her a lot of effort to stay calm. "I know even Ragnar would not have stooped so low, no matter what happened. I thought you wanted to do better than him." My husband grimaced at her words. "And instead, you threatened to do the one thing that will break her. I don't care what you say or think happened. You are acting like a toddler because things don't go your way. I don't know how she put up with it this long, and frankly, I'll be glad to see her finally leave you. You don't deserve her, or her love. You're despicable, Bjorn Ironside. I came here to wish you luck with your travels, but it seems that is the least of my concerns right now." Lagertha strode off, her boots echoing as she left Bjorn to wallow in her words. They affected me, just from hearing them. Ragnar looked even worse than before.

Bjorn started to fling things around, much to my delight, screaming and grunting as a table tipped over. Lagertha had been right.

"I'll see you tonight," Ragnar mumbled before he took his leave. He wanted to go after Lagertha, no doubt. I let him. It seemed the gods were finally smiling on me. After all these years, Ragnhild would leave Kattegat.


	5. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-03-815

"Where were you?" Thormund asked as I opened the door. He was more eager to see Ragnar than I hoped he would be. What was it about that man that made those around him act like idiots? Even Bjorn had softened up about his father after just three days. "You told us you'd be back in time!"

"I had some things to take care of, and I ran into grangran." I put down my bow and arrow. As I'd asked, the twins had made sure their weapons were put away and Freydis was dressed up. Not that she needed to be reminded, she loved putting on her fancy dresses.

"What did you do? Your dress is covered in dirt," Siggy said. 

"You'll never believe it," I told her. "I slipped on a rock when I went to get my arrows, just like Thormund did a few days ago." Siggy rolled her eyes, hard-pressed to believe me. 

Freydis ran up to me and pulled on my hand. "Can I pick your dress? I know just the one!"

I sat down and took off my boots, smiling at her enthusiasm. "Go ahead, little bean." She'd probably pick something princess-like, but I didn't mind. It would make the evening an immense success in her eyes, and I could do with some uncomplicated bliss. 

Thormund danced in place. I ignored him, growing a little patience wouldn't hurt him. I'd beaten that out of Bjorn without even trying, there was no reason for Thormund to not learn as well. 

Freydis came back clutching an off-white gown with a low cut back. Seeing my face, she wasn't so certain about her choice anymore.

"Freydis, what - why did you pick that dress?" Siggy had made it for me years ago. I hadn't dared throw it away.

"Because dad hates it when you wear this in public," Freydis said, her face contrite as if she's committed a crime. 

Bjorn had loved that dress, once, but now it was asking for trouble to wear it. It was a matter of pride to him. He didn't want anyone touching the skin his wife bared, but he didn't want to protect me anymore, either. 

I extended an arm. Freydis sat down next to me, folding her skirts underneath her legs. "Why would you want that?" Aggravating Bjorn today would only make things worse. I wanted to talk about it with Sigurd, but he would tell Hvitserk. I didn't want them to leave on a ship together with all that tension between them. I'd have to wait a bit longer.

"Because dad hurt you. Siggy told me." 

I turned to my eldest daughter and stared at her, my nostrils wide. The girl paled, fidgeting with her shirt. At least she'd put on a clean one. I sighed deep and asked the children to join me at the table. I had no idea how to navigate this, but I did know that the kids needed rules to know what was expected of them. Letting them run amok would only make things worse. 

"I know it's been a confusing week. But your dad didn't do anything to hurt you. You need to remember that. I don't want you to pick a side, because there are no winning sides in this. Do you understand that?"

"But he did hurt us," Siggy scowled, arms across her chest as Bjorn always did, thumbs up as if to entice the gods in his argument. "He left us to be with other women."

"He didn't even pick one, it's just a bunch of weird women," Thormund added. 

"I can understand you're mad at him for that, and you have every right to. But that's between you and your father, you're old enough to talk to him about it. I don't want you thinking any less of him because of what he does to me. I can fight my own battles." The twins remained silent, Freydis just taking everything in as usual. "Now, do you think you owe your father an apology if you see him tonight? You know he'll be gone when Harald finally gets here." The twins disagreed, but they didn't want another talk from me. It was the best I could do before the feast.

"Do you want a different dress?" Freydis asked. I thought for a second, then decided against it. Bjorn must've thought I had put the twins up against him and wanted to let me know he could hurt me too. With them apologizing before I got there, looking my best, I'd show him he couldn't dare to touch me like this afternoon again. He hadn't crossed a line, but he had stomped on it as a man possessed. 

"You know what, I haven't worn that dress in ages. I think I will. Would you help me do my hair, too?" 

Thormund sighed loudly, throwing his hand up in the air. "But mom! It's about to start!"

I wanted to smile, but he'd scowl at me if he knew how cute he was being. Those moments were far and few in between now he'd grown up. "If you make sure to apologize to your father as soon as you see him, you can go ahead." Grumbling, muttering, then excited to be off they put on their cloaks and went out. I changed dresses and let Freydis braid my hair in some intricate pattern she had come up with. In exchange, I did my best on her hair as well. She basked in the reflection of a looking glass, gingerly touching her hair to make sure it would stay up for a while. 

"You look really pretty, mom," she almost whispered. Her eyes wide in delight, I felt happier than I had in days. Freydis would always be my little miracle bean. 

"Did you think you got your good looks from your father? When you grow up, you will be most beautiful of all." Her radiant smile brightened up the house and was still present as we entered the hall. She looked like a queen already. 

There were two empty seats left, one of them beside Bjorn. I glanced at my daughter to gather some strength, then sat down. She was on my other side, and I was glad for the diversion. Many of our guests stared at us for being late - and maybe because I had put in some effort for the first time in a while.

The girls should have attended to me straight away, there were plenty of them moving in the vicinity of the boys. They had no trouble tending to their needs, especially Margrethe took her sweet time pouring Sigurd's ale. 

It hurt to realize I was the source of their constant loitering. I'd managed to marry a son of Ragnar while I started out as a slave, even though that was far from the whole story. These whimsical girls only saw the crown at the end of the road, not understanding what it would take.

Bjorn leaned in as soon as I caught a girl's attention. "What did you tell the kids?"

I had to think before I understood what Bjorn said, not having heard Dutch for a while. I signaled for two plates of food to be brought, raising my eyebrow slightly for even having to wait. Margrethe lowered her eyes and nodded. Standards had dropped since I had told Aslaug off for the type of girl she picked to serve in her hall. Siggy had known how to run a hall, but this...

Lagertha's keen eyes noticed as well, of course. She bit into a chunk of bread, her attention on me as she listened to Astrid tell her something that made her cover her mouth. 

"I told them not to fight for me in our battles. Did they apologize?" Avoiding his eyes, I took a drink from my cup. Aslaug had brought out the good silverware, and for once I didn't mind her flashing off her wealth. It made me feel like a queen, and I could do with some feigned confidence. I was more nervous than I thought. 

"They did. It was the first thing they did when they saw me." 

I saw them looking, eager to find out if they had done well enough to revoke my ire. I half winked with one eye, but it didn't calm them down as I thought it would. Perhaps I should have been here for it, but Bjorn's reaction to me acting like everything was fine was worth a lot, as well. He couldn't hurt me, not with empty threats. I was stronger than he gave me credit for.

"You mean after the stunt you tried to pull earlier today?"

"I thought you had set them against me."

"And I thought you still trusted me to some degree. Looks like we both were wrong." As far as I was concerned, the pleasantries were through. He should be glad I didn't throw my wine in his face and called him out for all to see. It would hurt him too much, this close to the departure. I wouldn't have to see his face again until Fall. 

"And what you're doing now isn't a stunt?" A plate was set before me, at last. I gave Margrethe a pointed look but didn't mention it further. 

"You mean the dress? The little bean picked it out for me." Freydis dug in with all the bearing of royalty, enjoying every bit of the evening. She didn't seem that bothered I was talking Dutch, the twins knew it meant we talked about them. 

"Still, you chose to wear it."

Usually, I resented him for ignoring me all night, but tonight of all nights he decided to be talkative. "Because it's one of the few things Siggy made for me that I still have. Is there something wrong with that?" Everything was wrong with it. The first time I wore a dress like this, I had kept Bjorn from killing his step-father. That was around the same time we started having sex. For lack of pictures and diaries, dresses like these were as close to a memento as we had. 

His eyes flitted through the hall, looking as far back as he dared. "Everyone can see your mark. People are staring."

"Oh, really? I hadn't noticed." I smiled sweetly. The looks made me feel good about myself. Time had been kind to me, but with no one to profess their admiration it didn't have the same impact. Hollow flattering from the merchants and visitors was all I got. 

"You've gotten good at speaking her language," Ragnar interrupted in Norse, "but it's impolite to talk in private among friends and family."

"They're talking about us, grandpa," Siggy said. "They think we can't understand, but we can figure out most of what they're saying. Mom and dad met in the woods today, her dress was all dirty. And when she came home she scolded us for telling dad off about his cheating. It doesn't take a genius to figure out they've been having sex." 

Ice slid through my veins. The whole table looked at her, surprised she spoke up at all. Usually, she kept to her side of the table, with Thormund and Sigurd. Siggy shouldn't talk to me like that, especially in front of our entire family. Just what had gotten into her? 

She stared back at me defiantly, my murderous intent not scaring her at all. "She even dressed up like that to impress dad. Like that isn't obvious," she added, rolling her eyes. 

"That's quite enough out of you, young lady," I said, trying to appear calmer than I was. At moments like these I hoped Bjorn was there to back me up, but he remained silent on the matter, instead calling for more ale. 

"I think you've ruined it," Thormund whispered. The boys tried to get the conversation going again, but Siggy shouted out above everyone.

"I don't get it, mom! Why would you even want to get back together! You always tell us we can do whatever we want as long as it makes us happy, and you don't even do that yourself!" I got up, but Siggy wasn't done yet. "How are we supposed to believe you if you can't even show us how! You're pathetic!" 

I yanked her by the arm, teeth gritted. "Outside. Now." Without looking back, I pulled my daughter behind me, furious at her. I kept dragging her along, all the way to the beach. The people in the hall had heard enough shouting for one day. As I turned around to face my daughter, ready to tear her a new arsehole, she started crying. 

Had I been that rough with her? 

This thing with Bjorn was proving to be just the kind of shitstorm I'd hoped to avoid for so long. It was this kind of thing, the care of my children faltering, that made me so reluctant in the first place. I lost what composure was left to me, choosing to sit down on the sand, staring out to sea. My lip tried to shake. I bit it. 

I was better than this. I'd never hurt my children physically, and now... What was I doing to them? Siggy joined me after a moment, pulling her knees up to her chest. 

"I'm sorry I hurt you," I said, my voice breaking. I'd failed as a mother. "It was wrong of me to drag you off like that."

"I just want you to be happy," she sobbed, resting her shoulder to mine. I wrapped an arm around her, wanting to take back how I'd hurt her. But that was impossible. I could only vow to do better, and by the gods, I would be. "You always tell us to speak the truth, and I did."

"You always have to tell the truth if you can, but I'd rather you hadn't done it at the feast. Why didn't you tell me at home?"

"Because I was angry at dad, not you." Despite her age, she still had a small frame as far as Viking women went. Siggy was more of a twig than a pea. "I love you, mom. I know you're sad all the time, even though you try to hide it."

"Are you afraid that if I can't be happy, you won't be either?" Siggy thought for a moment. I gave her all the time she needed, pulling her close. I should've had a talk like this with her before. Just because she did everything with Thormund didn't mean that talking about it with him was enough. They were different in some regards, and her being a girl was the biggest one. Of course this impacted her differently. 

"You're just so... Everyone respects you, and if someone like you can't be happy..."

I brushed my hand over her face. She looked fierce, despite the confusion on her face. This wasn't a problem she could face with a sword in her hand. "It means I made mistakes. What happens to me doesn't have to happen to you as well." If the gods were good, she'd never be faced with the horrors I'd had to endure. 

"But you're so much better than me... Even Freydis acts more like a grown-up woman than me."

I'd been wondering when it would come to this. With her body developing it became clear that different things were expected of her and Thormund. She would be pressured to become more lady-like, and that was the very thing Freydis excelled at. Luckily I had thought about how to talk to her about this for years. This was something I was more than equipped to handle, despite what Bjorn thought of it. 

"And how should a woman act?"

"I don't know... You always have all the answers, you always know when we've done something bad, you do so much... How could I ever hope to be as good? I'm sorry for being such a brat. I know you have it hard enough already, and with dad..."

She warmed my heart. There were so many times I felt like I was faltering, where I felt so thinly spread that I couldn't possibly juggle it all, but I'd done just fine. I wasn't a bad mother, and I needed to hear that more than I wanted to admit. 

"You're still a child, you get to act bratty every now and then. But do you know what I see when I think of a strong woman?" Siggy shook her head. "I always picture grandma Lagertha. She's a badass warrior who has fought and killed so many brave and strong men. She is one of the first women to become an earl, she's a fierce leader who always manages to make the right decision."

"That sounds nothing like what I just said."

I bumped her shoulder lightly, evoking a tiny smile from her. "That's why I told you, you smart-ass. There is not one ideal image of what a woman is supposed to be or do. Lagertha likes raiding, I like to stay here in Kattegat. We are very different people, and yet we are both admired by the ones we love. You could focus on the differences, but what do you see if you compare me with Lagertha?"

"You both love your family... You're strong and always know everything. People look up to you, and you're both pretty."

"That kind of reminds me of someone else," I said with a smile, already looking forward to her reaction. 

Her beautiful green eyes looked up to me in wonder. I still had no idea where she'd gotten those from. Some rumors floated around, but... "Who?" 

"You. I may not be able to look into the future the same way as grandma Aslaug, but when I think of you, all grown up… I have an image in my mind of a beautiful and fierce warrior, who will have great renown, who will one day lead armies and outsmart every enemy she faces. And every day, I can see you turning in to her just a little more." Siggy wrapped her arms around me, crying again. No sobs came from her this time, she just didn't know what else to do. I held her for a while, allowing Siggy to feel what she felt. 

I loved her to pieces. Being able to give her what I'd been denied for most of my life... She had such a wonderful head start on me, there was no doubt in my mind that she would surpass me one day. And that was all I could want for her. She'd be happier, stronger, fiercer. No matter if she wanted to have a family of her own or wanted to rule, I would support her. She was the sum of all of my hopes and dreams, and to see her get to that point in front of my eyes... 

Wiping at my tears, smiling as I took a ragged breath, I held her close. 

"Mom?" She looked up, her face still streaked with lines from the tears. Their paths shimmered in the moonlight.

"Hmm?"

"Are you still going to take away my weapons?"

It was the one threat that worked for the twins. They knew it wasn't an idle one, and that they would be bored out of their minds when it got to that point. They always accepted it though, not once had they tried to get away with it by using someone else's weapons. With the oncoming sleuth of visitors after the ice melted, I could use some help with the chores around the house anyway.

"How long do you think is appropriate?" I could hear her crunch the numbers, thinking of how bad she had behaved and of the consequences her actions would have.

"Two weeks?" The hopeful glint in her eyes made me relent. She hadn't meant for this to happen, and she was still figuring out how to deal with emotions as intense as the ones she went through now. 

"Then two weeks it is." 

The surprise on her face was miraculous. She wiped off her cheeks, staring at me like she was witnessing a miracle. 

"Would you have agreed to a day?"

"I'd have made it a month."

She leaned back into me, her head against mine. "I love you, mom." She would soon be taller than me, I could start to let go of her then. I just wanted to hold her close, keep her safe from the outside world. She'd have to fight her own battles for years to come. For now, she could just be my daughter and nothing else. Just a bit longer.

"I love you, too, sweetheart." We sat there for a while, swaying on the gentle breeze waving in from across the fjord.


	6. For Whom The Bell Tolls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-03-815

After both of us calmed down we got up again. Siggy chose to go straight home, feeling too embarrassed to face the crowd just yet. I let her; I wasn't looking forward to it myself. But I had obligations to fulfill, an image to uphold. Siggy could be a child a bit longer.

"Oi! Vessel!" Halfdan. His voice made me choke back a little vomit. 

I took a deep breath and turned around, preparing for the warts that had washed ashore. The town bells hadn't heralded their arrival, while the sky was cloudless. Just what was Harald doing? This would've been the perfect sneak attack if they ever choose to take over Kattegat. Why have us aware of his influence in town? How come he didn't use this opportunity to seize me and use me for leverage? It's what I would've done.

They strutted as if to show off their feathers, followed by a handful of men. Waiting for them to catch up, my face lit by a nearby torch so they were sure to see my expression, I stared them down. If they weren't going to use this cover to their advantage, I'd make sure they thought there wasn't any. 

"You have a lot of nerve, calling out to me like that." The smile on Halfdan's face slowly faded. "You should know better than to barge in here after five years, sending a fucking messenger to negotiate you joining us." I closed the distance between us, seeing the confused look on his face. 

"You still remember my name," he said with a grin, almost recovering completely. 

"How could I forget. You held my newborn daughter in your hands, the one the gods have given me... And you dropped her." 

His face fell. "She's fine," Halfdan spat. "She only cried for a little bit." 

"She still has a scar! How dare you act like that's normal! She was bleeding from her head! If it hadn't been for your brother I would have charged you with attempted murder!" I smacked his face, not wanting to start a riot out here. A punch would have done that. This was borderline admissable, but only because Harald was intent on going to the Meditteranean with Bjorn. 

"Come now, Ragnhild," Harald said as he took the offending arm in his, forcing me to walk with him. "You know how my brother is, and he did apologize. The girl is fine, I'm sure. How are the twins? Will they come, too?" 

"You've got some nerve, asking about my family," I muttered, still furious. 

"You'll forgive us after a few drinks, as you always do. Now tell me, have you seen Floki's ships? How amazing are they?" 

I took a deep breath, calming down as the air escaped my lungs. 

"If the gods are good you won't be able to keep up with them." I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Halfdan make a face. Harald pulled my attention back as he hoisted up his elbow. 

"Well, if anything you have made me even more curious. And by the sound of it you already have a feast going in our honor, did you know we'd come?" 

I stood up straight, smiling brightly. Harald's face fell as he noticed. This was too good to be true, having Ragnar there with Harald arriving. 

"It's to celebrate the return of a king," I said. I watched his face intently as Harald opened the doors, scanned the head table, then scoffed. I caught Margrethe's attention, knowing I had things to do now that those brothers had returned here. The faster this was done the better, I had ensuing drama to watch. "Margrethe. Make sure our guests are well taken care of, they need beds for the night." 

The girl turned her head around, carrying pitchers in her hands. 

"Ragnhild... I - I'm a bit busy..." 

My face fell into an ice cold stare again. "I said, go take care of our guests. Do not speak against me like this, ever." I turned around, but I caught the words she mumbled. 

"You don't own me." 

Harald raised his eyebrow just enough for me to notice, then walked off. Fuck. 

"Margrethe." She put down the pitchers and walked up to me, hands behind her back. Why would she try and look that innocent? She wasn't as dumb as everyone thought she was. "You are here to serve the family. I'll not have you insult me, either to my face or behind my back. I am still the wife of Bjorn Ironside, I am still the Vessel of Freyja. You are nothing compared to me, and you would do well to remember that. Or I won't have to remember you at all." 

"What? No, I -" I silenced her with a gesture. 

"You know better than to insult me in front of distinguished guests. Get their beds ready, or I'll find a slaver to sell you to." 

I walked off, not bothering to look back at her. She had made me miss the look on Halfdan's face as he saw Ragnar sitting at the table, I'd only seen Harald's first impression to the filled table. Now they were talking to Bjorn, and Ragnar was nowhere in sight. The food was being cleared away already, and the boys weren't looking too pleased with me, either. 

"... is just fine, you know how protective she is about the children," Bjorn said, clutching Thormund to his chest as if the boy was a shield. How caring he looked, how proud of his heir.

Fuck. Margrethe had once again fouled my mood just by existing. Something about that girl was off. The way she got under my skin, it was unbelievable. 

"Then I doubt your heir will come with," Harald said loud enough to piss Aslaug off. I saw her huff, then run into Lagertha. Bjorn gave me a cool glance as he squeezed Thormund's shoulder. This night just kept getting better. Now I'd get the blame for keeping our son here, too. 

"The twins will stay here," Bjorn replied. "After all, they aren't adults yet, according to their mother." 

I could strangle him. Our son looked up with a hint of doubt in his eyes, trying to glance past me. He wanted to know where Siggy was.

"I didn't know we'd gone broke," I said with a kind smile. "If things were so dire we needed a twelve-year-old to bring home treasure I wouldn't have asked Floki to get you those improved anchors. Thormund, your sister needs you. She's home." 

"In front of our friends and son?" Bjorn asked in Dutch. 

"You've tried enough tricks on me today. If you're still desperate to fuck someone over I can get a goat delivered to your house. They put up a fight, I know you like that." I tried to walk off, but Bjorn caught my arm. 

"If you insist on acting like a child about this -"

"Unhand me, now, or I swear I'll burn down your entire fleet." Without a word he let go of my arm, leaving me to finally walk up to the boys. Ivar was already gone, but the other three were enough to keep my anger swirling inside of me. 

"What did you tell her?" Hvitserk asked. He didn't have a horn in his hand, he didn't have a smile at the ready, and he only looked remotely happy. This was him trying to be serious. That must've been a new sensation to him.

"Are you fucking her, too?" I asked in return. Hvitserk staggered back. "She disrespected me in front of our enemies. I'll hear no more of this tonight."

"You don't understand, auntie," Sigurd said as he took a step closer, taking hold of my hand. "We had this thing tonight..."

"A foursome? Are you fucking out of your mind?"

"No!" Sigurd said, looking ready to vomit. "Gods, I... Auntie! Ah, fuck, I need to scrub out my ears... And my brain. This isn't worth it, screw it." He left, leaving me with two. They hadn't caught my words, or they would have reacted the same. 

"We're trying to do something nice for Ivar," Ubbe said decisively. "He's already waiting for her." 

"Excuse me?" Was he serious about presenting her on a silver platter to fuck his youngest brother? Was that his idea of helping his brother grow up to be self-sufficient and honorable?

"You always tell us to look out for him and not to look down on him when he asks for help." Ubbe really didn't have the faintest. Had I failed him this badly?

"I don't care if you want to help Ivar get laid. I don't care how angry he will be when he finds out she won't make it tonight. First of all, the kingdom stands above the family, always. Did you miss the fact that she is taking care of our enemies? Is that not more important than helping Ivar get off inside a cunt this very night?"

"Auntie..." 

"Second of all," I continued, suppressing the urge to draw him down by his ear, "Harald came in here without the bells heralding his arrival. Do you think that trumps Ivar's need to get his dick wet? He's already making a powerplay, and you dare worry about one girl?"

"She's a woman," Hvitserk intervened. 

"Even worse," I spat. "What if one of you gets her pregnant? If your brother and father are anything to go by -" I shivered so violently I couldn't keep on lecturing the boys. Ragnar had warned me about the kind of plays Harald had tried back in Paris, and him managing to get in here undetected was not a good sign, at all. This would be the year he would make a move, I was certain of it. 

Bjorn had been the one to act like a child, not me. I had to get rid of these lingering instincts. It had been too easy for them to return, and I had little room for errors. How come it was only me that was worried about Harald and his little stunt?

The dress had been a mistake. I wasn't in the mood to draw this much attention to myself. I felt stared at. Insecure. I couldn't be the strong one, not today. Bjorn's behavior affected me more than I thought it had. I had to get out of here, it was too much.

"Make sure Freydis gets home." I all but ran out, feeling horrible about leaving my little girl in the hall. She deserved to have a nice night where she got to feel like a princess, but I couldn't keep up the charade. I needed to breathe to keep from shouting and crying and falling apart. I had reached a limit I hadn't come across for years, and it clenched at my heart. 

"Auntie, wait. Aun - Ragnhild!" I headed for the exit in the back, not wanting to be faced with any more surprises or angry people. I had too many balls up in the air as it was. 

Outside I could finally breathe again, away from the suffocating heat. I was mortified of anyone seeing me this distressed, but no one had followed me out. Hvitserk and Ubbe still didn't understand what I'd tried to tell them, or they would've followed after me. 

I let out a hampered breath as I leaned into the wall. Bjorn, he could... Not after today. He scared me. He was so much stronger than me, physically. Part of me was afraid to be alone with him again. Could I even forgive him for that? Did I want to?

"Is this a bad time?" I heard Ragnar say. He forced me to focus on my breath, to bottle everything up again. I should've gone straight home, there was a fair chance the twins had gone out together to talk. That meant I could let myself cry. 

"The worst. But at least I didn't run from Harald."

Ragnar chuckled, but his heart wasn't in it. It was more of an exaggerated hum. I couldn't imagine him having spent a lot of time in the company of other people during the time he'd been gone, but he didn't look like he had done much hunting, either. He'd gotten... Plump. 

"Then what did you run from?" He came up to me, uncertain of how to behave around me. Was it because of my dress or his lack of social interaction over the past ten years?

"I can take on anyone in there, but not if they're ganging up on me." It was a gambit to seem strong and in control, and I didn't know if Ragnar bought it. The lines on his face were too numerous to say for sure, making me cock my head. He had to realize what had gone on here after he'd left. 

"I know you're still angry at Aslaug," he said. "It's hard to miss, really." Just what did he remember?

"Have you come back to test me, as well?" I asked, leaning back to take all of him in. Something was different... 

Ragnar looked away, turning his head. Those lines... His neck, he... Had he - he definitely had. I recognized the bruising, even after all those years. I had them pressed into my skin, once. Just how desperate was he, really?

"I need your advice, as a vessel of the gods," he said, eyes flitting from left to right as if to find an answer on the ground. 

I scoffed, not believing what I heard. He told me he'd lost his faith in the gods the night before he left, and now he wanted their help? When he hadn't come up with answers of his own? After seeing how much it cost me to keep this gods-damned kingdom running?

Letting a sigh escape my lips, I relented. It wasn't for me to judge Ragnar's path, and I wasn't the only reason Kattegat had thrived. I wanted to hate Bjorn for all the wrong reasons. Resenting him for the stuff he did do right would only harm us. I had to keep my eyes on the bigger picture.

"You'll join us for dinner tomorrow. My children will have at least one memory of you before you go off to England to die."

Ragnar didn't feign surprise. Had he shown me his neck on purpose? Whatever it was, I'd better capitalize on it before he was off to die. "What gave it away?"

"Did you forget? I had one of those rings around my neck once. I told you years ago; it takes one to know one."

"You did... You told me a great many things. Just tell me this. Do you still believe in the gods?" Fuck. Not this, too. 

"I believe more than you, I can tell you that much. I've had this same talk with Athelstan once, and in the end, the last days before he died, he found his god once more. Will you do the same? Will you cry out to Odin the moment before you die?"

Ragnar scoffed. "I have a reputation to uphold. It's not like we are free to crack and show the world..."

"If you gave a damn about your reputation you wouldn't be here. You'd have the grace to let us live under the assumption that you died a long time ago."

"Oh, but what kind of a man would that make me? You aren't the queen, and Bjorn is no king. Is that not enough reason? The boys are old enough to live on their own, now." 

I shook my head, unable to believe this. He'd made an even graver mistake than I thought. He hadn't forgotten to divorce Aslaug, he'd left her in place on purpose. He had truly, madly, deeply gone insane.


	7. The Sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-03-815  
> Astrid's POV

The night sky vibrated with stars and colors, bats flying around. The cries of amazed people ran high into the air, to where only the gods could hear. They were speaking, praying, whispering in my ears. Look up, they said. Seek the eyes that search for you. Watch them, guide them, let them devour you.

I did as the gods commanded. Who was I to let them down? Who was I to deny their encouragement? Lagertha was my mentor, my surrogate parent, my lover, and my teacher. She had made me into a fierce woman.

But her son...

The gods wanted me close to him, in a way his wife hadn't been for years. They wanted me to help him conquer. To be a mere fragment of his tale was more than any woman could dream of.

The goat that got sacrificed was special somehow, but the story hadn't stuck. It had something to do with Ragnhild, but now I found her husband staring at me, the weight of his eyes pinning me down. They burned into my soul, set me alight. When I couldn't take it anymore I left, breaking eye contact as I scuffled through the crowd. I couldn't possibly. He was Lagertha's son. I loved her, she was my world... But she would be so proud to see what he could accomplish. I would be a part of it if I gave in to the desire of the gods.

His wife on the other hand... Innocent as she looked, wrapping her young daughter in her own cloak to keep the girl warm as they took in the ceremony, I had been warned. Lagertha refused to go into detail, but she had told me there were few women more lethal than her. I failed to see how that could be true.

The gods did this to me. They made me want him like this. It had to be them. Even now I felt Bjorn's eyes on me, my body heating up from his attention. Without glancing up to him, I took a few steps back into the crowd. Lagertha was too focused on Aslaug and the goat to notice. 

I focused on my breathing. I couldn't make any rash decisions like before, there was too much at stake here. Lagertha was planning something, her son was leaving tomorrow, along with Hvitserk... I needed to think with my head, not with my heart. That's what she would say.

His hands trapped me. He held my waist, pulled me close, forced me up against a house. He knocked the breath out of me, his hands sliding over my body. 

"Where did you think you were going?" he whispered.

"Away from staring eyes," I sighed, feeling his hands massage my breasts. It was all it took to shatter my resolve. "Your mother knows how to sacrifice a goat. She doesn't need our help."

"Shut up about my mother," he breathed back. His fingers pulled on my shirt, jerking it up so he could snake his fingers upwards to my breasts. He was so good at this...

Ragnhild was a fool. Whatever she thought to gain from keeping Bjorn at a distance, it wasn't worth it. His fingers, his touch, he had perfected the art of making love. I missed his warmth when he pulled me along to his house. His hand held onto my wrist, but I came willingly.

As soon as the door closed behind me he swept me around, fast, then pulled my shirt up slowly. I moaned as I felt the cold air touch my nipples. I held back, knowing he liked to work for his rewards.

"I can't promise I'll be gentle," I said as I let my nails dig into his skin, repeating the words he spoke to me last time we met. To my surprise he grunted, threw my body against a wall again. It must have been something between him and his wife. He could repeat the words, but I couldn't copy them.

"Not everyone can be pretty and smart at the same time," he whispered. It took me a second to unravel his words, and by then it was too late. His fingers had found my soaking wet pussy, and begged him to keep on going. My muscles clamped around his fingers, beckoning him further in.

"Bjorn," I sighed. He loved it when I breathed his name, pretended it was a cry for him to release me from the sweet torture he inflicted on me. Ragnhild had left her marks, and they were clear as day. She had ruined him, a perfect Viking specimen, one I would be glad to call my own, and had turned him into her slave. It was so easy to guide him once you knew where to look. It was close to laughable.

They had broken up over something to do with sex, that much I had wrung from him over the past two years, but no one knew exactly what happened. I doubted they knew themselves. Ragnhild didn't bother looking for a replacement, not while she still held out hope he would come back to her. The pull she had on him amazed me, even after all these years. In his mind, he was fucking her. 

I squeezed Bjorn's hand, then slowly lowered it, barely an inch. He guided his hand further down until I felt him slide past my sensitive nub. He was amazing at this. 

"Bjorn," I sighed again, a little louder. He grunted, increased his speed, then suddenly stopped. Another one of her tricks. He loved this game, and it made me climax hard every time. "Please... Bjorn, don't be cruel..." I leaned into his body, feeling his warm skin next to mine. It felt so different from Lagertha's.

"Astrid," he whispered, out of beat. 

"Fuck me," I responded. He teased me further, brought me to the brink, then made me wait. Ragnhild was so much stronger than I was, to withstand this kind of torture, voluntarily. How could she survive this and still be so weak when it came to making a decision? I was close to bursting, moaning so loudly Bjorn covered my mouth. I could scarcely breathe.

"You fucking slut," he grunted, thrusting deep inside of me. "Oh, you dirty whore, let me fuck you as you deserve..." His slurs were part of the deal. He cursed, I came, and things were right. In the light of day, he didn't dare repeat what he said. "You fucking slut..."

His cock forced me back up to the wall, the wood scraping past my soft skin. Lagertha had kissed it this morning, and now her son was ravaging it. I moaned into his hand, feeling him pull up a leg so he could enter me deeper. I wasn't used to fucking a man, but this... I knew when I was fucking someone with experience.

"Dad?"

Fuck. That was his daughter, the young one. If she found us like this she would tell her mother. Bjorn realized, too. He pulled out and tied his pants back up, giving me a warning look. He nodded towards a stack of chests I could hide behind. 

"Freydis? Is that you?" The door opened. Bjorn should get a servant to clean his house, this corner was beyond dirty. "What are you doing here? I thought you were with your mother; I saw you at the sacrifice."

"You're not there, either... Mom said I could ask you." I heard the sound of chairs scraping over the floor. This was going to last longer than I'd thought. I tied my pants; he could warm me up all over again once he was done. 

"What about?"

"Why are you hurting mom?" For a moment he was silent. I imagined how he looked, his face growing serious and intent. 

"I'm not hurting her. She's hurting herself." He sounded weak. Was this the man who dared call me his slut just a minute ago?

"But she cries when we try to sleep. She did it again last night. Siggy said you did the grown-ups kissing in the woods." He'd fucked her? 

He actually fucked her? Then why had he come to me again? Why had he risked the ire of the three women he cared about most, all in one fell swoop? His mother, his wife, and me. I was the only one who he fucked more than twice, he'd told me so. He'd better... 

Why was I jealous? Lagertha had told me to stay put in our guest house while she tore into Bjorn. What had happened?

"Is that what your mother said?" 

"Dad, please. Why are you hurting mom like this?" She started sobbing. Bjorn walked her toward his bed. As he sat down, pressing her head to his chest, he signaled for me to sneak out. Those eyes told me to obey. Had he really fucked her again? I'd convinced myself that Siggy had just thrown around accusations.

"I don't want to hurt her. I've tried to keep her from hurting ever since I left, but she keeps holding on. It's hard for all of us."

"Then why did you kiss? I know it's not like how mom kisses us, I'm not stupid."

"I know, you're one of the smartest women in town," Bjorn said as he watched me leave. "Sometimes your mother and I do stupid things." Because he still loved her, deep down inside... The desperation was written on his face. If that girl hadn't been here, I would've torn into him, myself.

"But it's not fair!" Freydis shouted, raising up her head.

"I know this is going to be hard to hear, but what your mother and I do is between us. You don't know what it was like for us when you were a babe. Some things were said and done that we can't go back on."

"Did you say you're sorry?"

"For what?" Bjorn sounded confused. 

I reached the door, much to my dismay. As I closed it behind me I picked a spot to keep listening in. The darkness from outside gave me all the cover I needed from those inside. 

"For leaving," Freydis insisted. 

"I'm not having this conversation with you. Your mother and I -"

"You don't understand! Let go of me, you're an asshole!"

"Hey! Stop shouting, who taught you that word?"

I hid a smile, seeing Bjorn act like a father for the first time. 

"I'm not telling! I want to go back to mom, put me down!"

Through the cracks, I could see how Bjorn held onto her shoulder as she tried to get away. I felt sorry for the girl. Whatever Ragnhild was trying to achieve by lingering in this state of half-divorce, she was letting it affect her children in ways she didn't even realize. Just how could Lagertha think of her as strong and cunning? She was her own weakness, blinded by hypocrisy and a false sense of entitlement.

"Not until you learn to behave, young lady. You're a princess, and that means you can't go around accusing people of things, least of all your father. Now tell me, who taught you that word?"

"I hate you! You left me, too!"

"Freydis! You will listen to me, you hear? I'm not hurting your mother, she does that to herself. I left because she hurt me. Is that what you want to hear? She was the one that drove me off, after years of taking care of her. If you want to yell at anyone, yell at her."

The door opened with a bang, Freydis running out crying. A girl her age shouldn't know such pain... I'd lost my parents at an early age as well, but perhaps having them die meant I was better off. The way their children behaved, Ragnhild and Bjorn were anything but good parents. 

Freydis turned around, looking me square in the eye. "I hate you, too! And so do Siggy and Thormund!"

Before I could respond she ran off, unafraid of running in the dark. I walked a few paces towards the path, unsure how to handle any of this. How had she known I was here? Just what was going on? If anything, hearing this conversation had made me even more confused. Everyone always made it sound like Bjorn had made the mistake, that he couldn't forgive himself for what he'd done to poor Ragnhild. But if what he said was true... 

"You got some nerve, sticking around," Bjorn said as he shouldered past, not bothering to look my way. He had no right to treat me like that. 

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked as I followed behind him. "I thought we'd continue after. You put me in a corner; if anything I should be mad at you."

He stopped, turned around, red in the face. "You dare... Dare! Get out of my face."

He didn't impress me. Everyone knew he'd never hurt a woman outside of battle. "How could a woman like that inflict such wounds on a man like you?" I asked as I walked past him. I kept a deliberately slow pace as I walked ahead, knowing Bjorn would be forced to walk behind me.

"You don't know what went on back then," he snapped.

"Is that supposed to make you feel better? Telling your children that it's their mother's fault you left?"

He put his arm around my throat and pulled me back. My fingers scratched at his arm. I couldn't breathe. 

"Don't you fucking dare," he whispered. "If you breathe a word about what you heard, to anyone... I won't have you harming my family, in any way. Is that clear?"

I nodded, gasping for breath. He pulled his arm even tighter.

"Good. Because as the gods are my witness, I will find you and destroy you. Not even my mother will bother looking for the scraps of you that no one will ever find."

He let go of me. I coughed, watched as Bjorn walked ahead of me as if nothing happened. If anything, this made me want to follow him even more than before.

Something was off about him, and the gods wanted me to find out what it was. Lagertha had been angry at her son ever since we arrived, though she had looked forward to seeing him again at first. Then Siggy had shouted about him and Ragnhild separating, and now Freydis... How had she known I was there?

Bjorn was in a foul mood, like he had been the first time we'd fucked. Was he thinking of fucking someone else? Lagertha hadn't been the only one who had looked forward to coming here this early in the season. She got to relive her fondest memories, with Ragnar back here. She had never told me much about him, but since they had talked again... Something was up. 

The gods were here, interfering with all of our lives. Why else had the gods made me this curious? They guided me with every step I took. Lagertha had taught me just how close they are to our lives, how they were present with all the things we did. Ragnar had shown her that. 

Lagertha had her lover back now. I saw the glances they shared while they danced around each other, avoiding each other's gazes from lingering to keep from admitting what was still in their heart. She had no right to judge me for wanting to have a man on the side as well. But now it seemed like I was the one on the side for everyone.

I hid behind a tree as Ragnar's voice rang out. "Bjorn!" Before Bjorn could look back I was out of sight. I knew how to sneak around in the dark, and how much cover a tree could provide. 

Ragnar came up to him, looking harrowed. Bjorn dragged his father off to the side before he bothered to look around, forcing me to move to stay out of sight.

"What are you doing?" Bjorn asked. I didn't dare take a peek just yet.

"What did you say to Freydis? The poor girl was in tears, saying you were screaming at her. I thought you wanted to do better than me, what in the name of Odin were you thinking?"

"You weren't there. You don't get to judge me."

"I'm your father; I get to ask questions. What happened?"

"You. Weren't. There. For ten years. I don't owe you anything." He sounded ready to burst again. Would he almost choke his own father, too?

"How bad was it? What she did."

Ragnar's soft voice surprised me. Everyone thought the world of Ragnhild, and here was his father, knowing it was her... Had he figured it? Was he looking for confirmation, or was he still catching up with everything around him?

"Mind your own business." Soft footsteps walked away. Bjorn came into sight, but on the other side of the tree I could see Ragnar. 

"Only she could hurt you like this. I know what you almost did to her."

Bjorn froze in his tracks. "Do you, now? Did Lagertha also tell you about the prophecy?" 

"Fuck prophecies," Ragnar said, standing taller now. It made Bjorn scoff. "A prophecy made me leave your mother. A prophecy made me want to tear you and Ragnhild apart. A prophecy made me chase after castles in the air."

"You don't understand. The Seer told me that she will have me lose it all."

"Losing her means losing it all," Ragnar snapped. "If she leaves Kattegat, the markets will flock with her, you know that as well as I do. What else did the Seer say?"

Bjorn sized up his father, making sure to stand tall. "That my family will betray me, and that they will free me. Like I need to be saved. I am my own man."

"No man can rule alone," Ragnar said softly. I could barely hear him, but I saw the emotion in it. He wanted to keep Bjorn from failing as well. Had he known? That his father had picked him as his heir? "Not even with your help could I do it."

"I'm not in the mood for one of these talks. I leave tomorrow, I have people to say goodbye to." Bjorn walked off.

"Like your wife?" Ragnar asked as he followed closely behind. 

It forced me to move, this was too good to miss. The gods had been right to have me walk off during the sacrifice. Bjorn was conflicted over Ragnhild.

"She's not my wife anymore! As soon as I get back I am rid of her!"

Ragnar smacked his son in the face. "Don't ever say that," he said softly, I could barely hear the words, but the threat was clear. 

"Don't put your own faults and mistakes on me. I'm not you, and she is not Lagertha. Touch me again and I will kill you."

"You'd be forcing your own hand," Ragnar said as he walked off. "You need her to stay here! And you need a queen by your side!"

Did he, now...

Lagertha still hadn't shared what she was planning, but I knew she meant to go to war. For a while, I had been certain she meant to attack Kattegat, but with Ragnar back that seemed unlikely. As soon as he got back from England, he would rule once more. I would never be a queen if I stayed with Bjorn's mother.

Part of what had drawn me to Lagertha was the power she wielded, her fierceness, but I would never be her queen, or her consort. Marriage was not in our future. Her son provided more opportunities. I could live with his perversions, his lingering love for his wife, as long as I could call myself queen.

The gods demanded it. They told me I would be queen, and that I would end up traveling all over Scandinavia. And as much as I loved Lagertha, I couldn't deny the calling of the gods. They needed me for a higher purpose. I would always love them best.


	8. Careless Whisper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 14-03-815

As the news of Siggy's outburst spread through the town, the girl realized just how much of an impact she had made. In the days after Bjorn's departure, she behaved so well I hardly recognized her. When we walked across the market people kept staring at us. 

"I can't believe you only took my weapons away for two weeks," she said mournfully. "Did you know this would happen?"

I nodded to a fur merchant from Bornholm. He flashed me a small smile, showing none of his teeth. He didn't have any news. Not that strange, since he lived off further than Harald. "I had a hunch. It would have been worse if I hadn't talked to you alone afterwards."

"I should have kept my mouth shut." Siggy could handle disapproving looks whenever she ran around in her pants, but this wasn't gender-related.

"You had every right to say what you did, but you should have told me at home. Especially when you're angry, you need to stay calm when you talk of such important and painful things. If you start shouting, you only make the others shout back, and then no one listens."

"Did you talk to dad about it?"

A merchant gave me her signature look saying she knew something worth my time, but I wrapped an arm around Siggy. This was not the time to let the kingdom interfere with my family. She sucked in her lips, then returned her attention to the grizzled man that tried to get a discount. 

"I did. And I took your advice. We'll discuss a divorce when he comes back." Saying it didn't hurt at all. I could still suppress my feelings, and I needed to appear strong to my children in this, confident. I had hesitated far too long already. I could be foolish and hope for everything to be alright the next moon, but that would be wishful thinking. If anything, the Viking had taught me to be realistic.

Her big green eyes stared up at me. "All because I yelled at you?" she asked. 

"No, because of what you said to me on the beach. You were calm, spoke the truth, and I listened. Then I made a decision for myself." Björn hadn't helped, either. Even as we'd said goodbye, I had felt the urge to spit in his face and call him out for what he'd done. Sigurd had kept me from it, thank the gods. 

"I'm really sorry, mom. If I'd known..." Her eyes went over the marketplace, where most people were still just going about their business. But the ones who loves to gossip all had their eyes on Siggy and me. "But I'm glad you decided to stick up for yourself. It's what you always tell other people to do."

"I won't deny, it was hard to do. I always try to balance what I want for myself and what I want for you three. And I want you all to be happy, and grow up to be amazing people who care for their loved ones. If I want that for you, I have to lead by example." 

"But you'll be happy now, right?" Her eyes drifted off to the wares of a fur merchant that I refused to buy from since he'd tried to oversell his information. He served as an example to the rest.

"Some part of me still loves your father. It would be impossible not to, after all we've been through. And though he's caused me a lot of pain lately, he gave me you. And we'll always be a part of your lives, but it's time for both of us to move on now. Who knows, I could grow to love someone else." The idea of being with anyone but Bjorn seemed so strange after all the years we had spent together. Since I'd met him, he had been the only one for me.

"Ragnhild," I heard someone call. Annoyed about being disturbed while having a good conversation with my daughter, I looked around to find the voice anyway. 

"Astrid," I said as she had caught up to us. I had some well-founded suspicions Bjorn had slept with her, but I couldn't be sure just yet. "What is it?"

"I was hoping I could invite you for drinks tonight, after dinner. Can you make it?" Her questioning eyes almost begged me to say yes. I had counted on a quiet evening with the children, have them tell a few stories of the gods themselves, see how they felt about the last sacrifice. I'd been putting it off for too long already.

"Um, sure. I'll drop by after dinner."

"Don't worry, I'll pick you up. We have something special planned," she grinned. Not at the hall, but at an undisclosed location, no doubt with just her and Lagertha. These women were planning something secret Aslaug couldn't know about. Lagertha even knew that the boys wouldn't be eating at my place, tonight... Then why did she send Astrid after me with an invite like this?

"I could use a drink, count me in," I smiled back. At the very least I could hear them out. 

"Great, I'll get some of the good mead." She walked away again, not even bothering to acknowledge Siggy in any way. 

My daughter noticed, too. Her eyes turned inquisitive, the shame and humiliation all but forgotten. "What's up with her?" Siggy asked. She sounded wary, making me feel proud like a lion.

"I don't know, but I'll guess I'll find out soon." I ushered us ahead, but Siggy kept looking back at Astrid. 

"I don't like her. I think she slept with dad." 

A glacier made its way down my chest, followed by the need to lash out burning through my veins. "What makes you say that?" 

Siggy looked up, suddenly not as certain any more. "It's... I can't explain. It's like I know, but I don't know how I know it."

"My gut has been telling me the same," I admitted. Siggy needed to learn to trust her gut if she were to play a serious role in ruling one day, and telling her she was wrong about something like this would only hurt her. Besides, she knew of her father's extracurricular activities now. "We can't both be wrong, you're very intuitive about these matters."

"So you did have sex with dad," she grinned in a whisper. I just smiled, letting her have this victory. 

In my mind it hadn't counted as either sex or rape, but I was late bleeding for the second day. I didn't know what the gods were planning on doing, but I didn't like where this all could be leading up to. 

"Come on, I'll let you pick dinner for tonight. You've deserved it." She usually picked one of my favorite comfort foods, which I could really use right about now. 

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Siggy stayed with me while I talked to the merchants, and for no reason other than boredom she decided to listen in, squinting her eyes when she realized there was some kind of pattern as to the questions I asked about the weather back home. Most of all, I was amazed that Siggy seemed to be upset more than anything else. 

A knock at the door made all of us look up from dinner. It was just winding down, with Freydis picking at her mushrooms, gathering courage to eat them. 

"Okay kids, I'm off. Take care of each other, alright? And the dishes, you can go out after if you want to." Lagertha would've come in like everyone else in the family. This had to be Astrid. 

"We will mom, have fun." 

I opened the door and saw Astrid, mostly hidden by a dark cloak. If I'd be looking out for someone to plot evil things, I'd pick her out to follow. We walked up to the beach in silence, then kept on going until we reached a secluded alcove. It was where I had seen Bjorn kill someone for the first time. Many shady things had happened here. 

Lagertha was already waiting and came forth from the shadows as Astrid and I sat down. She wore a striking dark blue dress, looking as if she was on her way to a party. 

"She's young," I told her. 

Lagertha gave me a sparing smile. "She's a quick study, and I trust her."

Astrid's nasal voice piped up, my face wanting to pull into a look of disgust. "What do you mean, I'm young? I'm almost the same age as you." I doubted she was a day over thirty, though, whereas I was fast approaching thirty-nine. I was too old for this crap, I should enjoy my children as they grow up and be satisfied with the menopause setting in this late in comparison to the other women in town. Not worry about a cheating husband and impossible pregnancies.

"You invite me to a secret meeting by yelling my name across a busy market while everyone who saw us knows we don't really know each other. You don't give a location, come pick me up where my very chatty children are, and you come dressed as if you are snooping around. Even my daughter noticed something was off, back at the market." Astrid huffed at that, clearly wanting to look unimpressed. 

"What did you tell Siggy?" Lagertha asked. 

"She suspects Astrid had sex with Bjorn and wants to talk about it. I let her believe it." Doubt started to seep into Astrid's expression. I had been right. That whore had slept with my husband, most likely during the sacrifice before Bjorn and Hvitserk had gone off to the Mediterranean. If there ever was a day in these past years I had needed Bjorn to be there for me, that night was it.

"Do you see now? Why I wanted her to be a part of this?" Lagertha asked. Astrid just scoffed. Lagertha had known as well, and had somehow managed to look past it. At times like these I was still very unaccustomed to the Viking way of life. If any new fling of mine were to have sex with Siggy... 

I kept down a retching sound. The mental image of balls being crushed on an anvil was harrowing.

"What could she do to help you?" Astrid asked. 

"She could mean a world of trouble, should she whisper in the right ear. She doesn't act often, but should she choose to react, I don't want to be on her bad side." It was good to know Lagertha still remembered what happened ten years ago. Then again, killing a child… Neither of us would ever forget. 

"You know what I hold most dear," I told Lagertha. She knew having my children hurt would have me react to whatever was going on.

"But do you still swear fealty to your husband?" I sat down, accepting Lagertha handing me a cup of mead. 

"When my daughter started yelling at me in the hall, I took her to the beach. I asked her what she thought of when she imagined a strong woman. She told me I was a strong woman, trying to keep the family together and wanting to keep everyone happy, doing what needed to be done."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Astrid interrupted. I ignored her comment, as did Lagertha.

"I told her what I thought of when I imagined a strong woman. I imagined a woman who didn't let any man dictate what she could or couldn't do. I told her I saw a woman who could make her own decisions. A woman not afraid to fight in battles, protecting what she holds dear. A fierce leader, who knows how to pick her battles."

"I still don't get it," Astrid said. Lagertha seemed to understand, though. She knew I held her in high regard. She knew I was describing her, and not Aslaug. Just by saying those words, I had declared my loyalty to her, and not the woman that had borne the boys I had grown to love. Bjorn didn't even factor into this, and besides, Aslaug had burned many a bridge with me, ever since Ivar was born.

"It gladdens me to hear you say that," Lagertha said, also choosing to ignore Astrid for now. "Do you love your husband as much as you love your children?"

"I do when it keeps them safe." Astrid just glanced at us as we spoke, lost on the words we didn't speak aloud. I knew Lagertha was planning something dangerous, that would influence the fate of Kattegat. Otherwise she wouldn't have gone through the trouble to speak to me alone. As confused as Astrid looked, she kept quiet at the very least. She was better at playing the game than my daughter, if only because she knew there was a game at all. 

"Is she going to be a liability?" I asked, keeping my eyes on my mother-in-law. 

"I trust her," Lagertha repeated. 

"I don't." She had fucked my husband. She had been a liability to my family. Gods knew, she could be the reason my 12-year old daughter had told me off about his infidelity. "But I trust your judgement," I said, acknowledging Lagertha obviously knew more than me on this, and trusting she would keep my family safe. Having me on her side meant nothing if Bjorn wasn't with her as well. Harming me or the children would pit Bjorn against her, which was her only source of strength and support if she took over Kattegat. 

But that would only be true if Ragnar would not return, despite him being king in name only. Lagertha meant to take Kattegat away from Aslaug, not her ex. No doubt had she seen the dark bruises around his neck, telling those who could read the signs he didn't plan on ever making it back to Norway. I knew the face of true despair. 

"You know as well as I do about Ragnar," she said. 

"I said goodbye a long time ago." I still wasn't sure if I was glad to have him back in town, if only for a little while. 

Astrid looked flustered at the weird conversation I was having with Lagertha. No doubt she'd be filled in afterwards, to learn about what we had been talking about. At least she knew how to keep her mouth shut as we discussed the future of Kattegat. The difficult part of the conversation was over, we knew where we both stood. 

Lagertha planning to take over Kattegat would turn into quite the event. She already was an earl, but other than jumping another station up to queen, she had nothing to gain. That meant Aslaug would lose, and Lagertha was on my side on this one. If not for the same reasons, we both hated her guts. Now the time had come for Lagertha to act on her feelings of revenge, before I could.

It was still too early for me to take revenge on that bitch. Everyone knew about our animosity, or at the least was aware of it. "I need plausible deniability, but I could tell you of what I know under the guise of a tour of the village, or keep the boys occupied." 

"I have that covered," Lagertha responded, making me smile. Of course she'd already staked out the town, and the only thing that could occupy the boys to not notice a hostile takeover was Margrethe, the slave girl the boys were swooning over. I didn't like the fact she was being used like this, probably unaware of the chaos her actions would bring. She was a sweet girl, a bit dumb, but like my own time spent as a slave she was mostly concerned with surviving, not the politics that happened around her. In her innocence of how the world worked, she had caused a lot of pain and doubt for the boys already. 

"If you can promise no harm will come to mine, I will pose no threat." 

"That is all I ask. I'm sure you and your children will find some time soon to take them somewhere out of Kattegat."

"Would some archery practice work?" She knew the twins well enough to realize they couldn't hear as much as a sound of the battle. They'd rush in headlong, not even knowing what was going on. 

"We could always use some good bowmen."

"Why would you help us?" Astrid asked, getting her head back in the game. 

"If you succeed, my children will survive, and she will make sure Kattegat is better protected than before, knowing how easy it is to take over. If you won't, my children will survive, and Aslaug will be forced to defend the town better. Either way, I win." Saying it out loud, looking at Astrid with a cocked eyebrow, I felt strong. She was no threat to me, not when I had allies like Lagertha. When push came to shove Lagertha would support me over Astrid. 

I'd explained it to Sigurd, once, when he was still young. The blood of battle is thicker than the water of the womb. And he, in all his innocence, asked me what happened if your family fought beside you in battle. 

"Ragnhild is right. She has always been able to read between the lines, and taught Aslaug's sons to do the same. Her knowledge has aided us many times before. After all, the gods brought her here from a place we can't hope to reach in a thousand years." 

My eyes narrowed. I might have told her snippets of the things I knew about, but it was nowhere near enough to make such a connection. "Bjorn told you." 

Lagertha just smiled. She had known I was from the future for years, and Bjorn and she had kept it quiet from me. "He has. He wanted my counsel, and I couldn't refuse him. You know how he can be."

"You never told me," I said more in reverence than anger. "All that time, you fooled me. You never let on. I could have used your counsel so many times over the years..." I scoffed at how well Lagertha had kept her poker face up around me. So much for her picking me over Astrid.

"Are there still things you want to ask me?"

"Why didn't you spend three moons in the interior?"

"Did you not think I was able to figure it out?" 

Her answer made my skin crawl. After Athelstan had died I had been able to relax a bit, but apparently the concept of time travel wasn't such a weird idea to the Viking as I had come to assume.

"It wore me down for such a long time. When did you find out?"

"When you left Paris early. You had been dropping so many clues, it was nearly impossible to miss." 

"Goddammit," I muttered. "I was so sure the start had died with Athelstan." At least Floki never figured it out. THe way he strew around secrets... The only thing he had ever kept to himself was how badly I was affected by losing Kol. The things I'd done...

"I figured there was more going on. Athelstan was the one that told Ragnar of your name. I know it's not Ragnhild, no matter how everyone calls you that. Tell me, does it match your brother's like I have always thought it did?" 

"My parents had little imagination," I said, not seeing what use it would be to hide it. Lagertha could have used this information against me any time she wished, yet she hadn't. Even this meeting was just a formality, I realized. There had to be something to gain from telling me now. She wanted to know how I felt about her knowing, but was that because she cared about me, or because the ones she cared about would object if I would lash out at her telling me? Why would she take such a risk? What could be worth it, with the invasion so close upon us? 

With Ragnar on a suicide mission, it could only have to do with Bjorn. Was she looking at my reaction intently? Did she realize I would search her face for some scraps of information? If he had told her anything about still caring about me, wasn't that worth fighting for? Had he convinced her that he still loved me?

My heart ached. My nerves frayed, coiling through my body. I was a fool.

I told the children I was waiting for Bjorn to come back to finalize our divorce, and here I was, clinging to any sliver of hope. Just the idea Bjorn still cared for me as he once did was enough to bring me to the brink of breaking down. Lagertha must have seen the battle raging within me, as she took the mug of mead I hadn't even drank a sip from and signaled Astrid to take me home. There was nothing left to say. 

I just wanted to go to sleep and wake up with the world all like I wanted it to be. I hated myself for showing such weakness in front of Lagertha, but I knew she wouldn't have told me unless she knew it would benefit both me and Bjorn. I had to count on her having my best interests at heart, otherwise I would break down in an endless cycle of mistrust and uncertainty again. It had taken me years to move past it, and it hadn't been easy. I had to trust Lagertha.

Having me divorce Bjorn would be hard enough on my family. Breaking down with Bjorn away would be disastrous, especially with Ragnar still in town. I had to remain strong, if only for my family. My children looked up to me, I had to keep them safe. The twins, Freydis... With Bjorn gone, I was their anchor. I had to make sure we survived. I had to keep everyone safe, and together. 

As we got back to my house again, Astrid threw me a curious look. I would give her nothing.

"I forgot to ask, can you ask Lagertha about her recipe for cabbage soup? It's to die for." Not bothering to wait for a response, I went inside and found the children playing a game. 

"I'm going to bed early," I told them. "Don't stay up too long." They knew not to bother with too many questions.


	9. On The Edge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 16-03-815

I knew I had to find Ragnar eventually. Ever since the dinner I'd forced on him he had hidden from me. The twins had asked all about the strategies he had used during his raids, while he held Freydis in his lap. He'd taken a shine to her, the way he'd done with Siggy when she was still young. Men all said they only wanted boys, but having a tiny girl in their arms changed them, instantly. 

Still, he hadn't enjoyed himself, being forced to relive all of the glory he'd lost because of his mistakes. I found him sitting on his familiar ledge, with a baby goat in his arms. I sat down next to him, feeling nostalgic and sad. After I'd come back from Paris we'd sat here plenty of times as well, him watching Floki tied to a pole while I worried over Bjorn during his winter in the Interior. 

I wasn't sure where to start. There was so much I wanted to know before he would go on his last journey. I rubbed my elbow, staring at the goat. It was one of Happy's offspring. 

"I couldn't find Happy," Ragnar said. He didn't bother looking up from the square.

I'd had to say goodbye to one of my oldest friends. "He had trouble walking. I agreed to... He was... His leg hurt, and I couldn't make it better. This way..." I took a deep breath, feeling my bottom lip shaking. Ragnar's lip showed a wan smile. "We sacrificed him to ask Thor to bless the raid, so Bjorn and Hvitserk make it back." Bjorn knew what it had meant to me, but instead of comforting me, if only by putting a hand on my shoulder or nodding in my direction, he had run off to fuck someone. I'd been left with Freydis and the boys for comfort. 

Ragnar put an arm around me. I leaned into him, blinking to keep from crying as Ragnar put his lips to my hair. That sweet old goat had been there for me when no adult seemed to understand me. Happy had pulled me through so many hard times, and through it all, he had never blamed me for my shortcomings. He had accepted me as I was. 

"He loved to climb," I sighed. "I'll miss his little tail wagging as I came to see him. And he always managed to shit near the fence, every new servant that had to take care of him complained about stepping in it. I'd tell them off for talking badly about him."

"I seem to recall an instance where that Chinese bitch couldn't find him, and he sat up here with us." The memory made me smile. That was before everything had turned to shit. 

I sat up a bit. "He bit Bjorn once, did you know? Just after I found out he cheated on me. I think he still has a scar. Happy just wouldn't let go of him." Remembering the good times was part of celebrating his next life with Tooth-Gnasher and Tooth-Grinder, just like I'd once promised Hvitserk where Piggy had gone. I had to believe I'd see him again one day, after death.

Ragnar chuckled. "That reminds me of someone else I know." I wanted to wipe away my tears at the change of subject, but thinking of Bjorn only made me cry harder. I was late four days, and there was no sign of blood or mucus or anything. Even a hot flash would have sufficed to calm me down, I would believe this was the start of menopause with all of my heart. 

"I don't know what to do, Ragnar." I closed my eyes and buried my face in his robe, despite the rank smell. Some things were impossible to get rid of.

"You'll find a way. You always do. You always manage to surprise me." He brushed my hair to the side, then held me in a tight embrace. "You have done so much better than I expected you would... Don't be too hard on yourself. The twins will lay waste to the world one day, and Freydis will help the world recover." 

I calmed down, forcing back my tears again. Being seen crying like this in public, it was uncouth. The boys would want to hear all about it when they caught wind of this. 

"The twins seem to remember the battles I fought better than I did... Do my sons know the same about warfare?"

"No. They told me they were getting too old for a story goodnight shortly after you left. Even Hvitserk. I got my hands on some military scrolls from Rome and only managed to translate them about three years back. I'm sorry they got so intense when you were over, I should've stopped them." 

"You think I can't handle a few teens? I was upset about how indifferent you seemed about Freydis' gifts." 

I looked up, seeing Ragnar was dead serious. 

"I know she's special, Ragnar. She was a gift from the gods, for crying out loud. I don't want to set her apart from the twins, she should have a normal youth." Having a functioning moral compass was the least I could give her, I knew she often had dreams that seemed to give her knowledge she shouldn't have. I saw how different she was from the other children her age, and how she seemed to have an instinct for what I needed to get through the day. I just had no idea how to handle it, other than try to lighten her load as much as I could.

"You can't do the complete opposite of what Aslaug did for Ivar. That will only hurt her in the end, it's not like all Aslaug did was bad."

If that was what he thought, he didn't know about Kol. Not the whole truth, as I had feared for years. Him coming back meant picking at those scabs again, but it was less severe than I'd thought. I could do with some good news.

"I know how to handle my own daughter, Ragnar. I do recall how I messed up with Ivar back in the day." 

He sighed, stretching his back. I didn't want to let go of him. I didn't want to have to say goodbye for real. 

"You're right. I shouldn't doubt you, you know her best."

"I do worry about her. She seems to like you a lot. It would be wonderful to know she won't have to let you go so soon..." 

Ragnar let out a sigh, resigning himself to the fact I would try and talk him out of his stupid plan. The goat in his arms bleated, then kicked as he tried to get out of Ragnar's grasp. I saw the reluctance in his motions as he let the goat run off on its own. 

"I was lost before you even got here. You merely delayed the inevitable and for that I am grateful. I got to see my sons grow up, at least a little."

"Aslaug didn't completely ruin them," I agreed. "Ivar did his best for a while, until Bjorn got through to him during training."

"That must have been hard for you." It had been... To see Ivar swinging a weapon like that, knowing his life was bought for with my son's, it was cruel. The gods were cruel like that, and they didn't even seem to care. They were cruel to me right now. I'd gotten some pointed looks from Helga, but no one had noticed how conflicted I'd been about that. Ragnar knew me, he knew what made my skin crawl and how I felt. 

"I don't want you to go. Ragnar, can't you stay just a little longer?" I looked up expectantly, but he wore a tired smile. Everything about him was tired and old. It wasn't right.

"We all have our fates. And now the end is coming for me, I am dying for the day to come when the blind man sees me."

"But I told you that ages ago... Did the Seer tell you something similar? I know you went to see him."

"I will know your secret on the day I die." 

A surge of panic took hold of me. "I could tell you now. Screw the gods."

"I have waited for sixteen years. I can wait a bit longer. You, however... You have a major decision to make. I know what Bjorn tried to do."

"You have no idea," I said with a sigh. 

He cocked his head. "Care to indulge a dying man?" 

I hesitated, then decided to follow my gut. "I might be pregnant," I whispered. Looking down at my lap, I felt how heavy the tears made my lashes. Ragnar laid his head down on mine. A new batch of tears burst to the surface, my body forcing down the sobbing that followed. "What do I do, Ragnar? We're supposed to negotiate our divorce." I had wanted another child for so long, so desperately... But I had been weak. This whole thing, our marriage collapsing, it was all because of me. It was all my fault, and now this... The gods were beyond cruel. How was I supposed to carry on, knowing it grew ever more likely? Perhaps I only skipped this period, and then Ragnar would die before he learned the truth. But maybe... 

"Just follow your gut. It's done wonders for you so far. Even if you hate his guts, if there's just the slightest sliver of hope... Hold on to it. Don't let go until you gave it your all. Fight for it." The sliver of hope grew at the support. The rest of me fell into despair.

I pushed away the tears on my face, angry over my selfish fears. "Even though it happened when he was about to rape me?"

"I know him," he said decisively, making me sniffle and look up again. Bjorn had changed since Ragnar left, a lot. "Alright, I heard Lagertha talk about it." I had no desire to keep talking about this, at all. Whatever Ragnar had thought to hear, it was probably half the story at best. 

"She still loves you," I told him. I knew the feeling was mutual. Normally I wouldn't interfere, but if I could help give them some closure before he left, I was happy to throw my principles overboard. And it kept him from telling me Bjorn and I still had a chance. 

He let out a deep sigh, looking up at the clouds. "I know. I love her, too. I'll miss her, have done so ever since she left me." Valhalla was on his mind. Part of him wanted to believe in the gods even now. If he did, they would meet again. "Don't make the same mistakes we made. Don't regret anything when you leave this life behind. Most of mine are of things I didn't do."

He was rambling like a man about to die, but his words did strike a chord. Would I someday regret not having given it my all? Would I hate myself for not trying to mend fences with Bjorn one last time? I took a deep breath and wiped away the remaining tears. It was a great relief having cried about all my worries, not having to fear any overly worried reaction. I had missed Ragnar more than I'd led myself to believe.

"Do you want me to tell the boys about why you went to England?"

"Only if you have to. I plan on the rest making it back, but Ivar might try and stoke things up. You know how his temper is." 

I rubbed a temple. Another topic I'd rather avoid. There wasn't much left I did want to talk about. "Better than you know. It's gotten worse since you came back."

"His mother influenced him more than you. That's where things went wrong. Aslaug isn't able to raise a son who knows how the world works. And yet, she hasn't let my sons hate me." 

Looking Ragnar in the eye, a stray tear still caught in my lashes, I saw he was serious. I wouldn't take away the one redeeming quality he had found in her. Refusing to talk of someone wasn't how you made the boys forget about something, a lesson I needed to remember myself. Bjorn had made some bold statements before he left.

"I try to do the same with my children, but it's harder than it looks. Especially mine seem to have a mind of their own."

"And you're surprised about that?"

"I'm proud of it. But it creates a whole new world of problems. Siggy has a knack for the game, it's uncanny. She's smarter than Thormund, but with those stupid laws of yours that accounts for nothing."

"It pains me how Bjorn is not taking care of them, and you. I thought he'd want to do better than me." He wanted to avoid some topics, too.

Just what kind of conversation had he walked in on, with Lagertha? "He never learned how to. He fucks around Kattegat to deal with his anger and frustration."

"And how do you deal with yours?"

"I dabble in archery." I loved the disbelief in his eyes. "It seems I finally decided to pick up a weapon, old man." He let out a booming laugh, his body shaking. 

"Woe to those who dare oppose you. I'm glad I won't be there to see the onslaught."

"It gets better," I said with a sly smile, eager to impress him further. "I grew tired of stationary targets after a while and switched to moving ones. And after that... Remember that supposed legend I told you about? The archers that can shoot from horseback?" Ragnar's eyes grew wide as he turned to face me. "It seems it's not just a legend anymore."

It was one of my deepest secrets, akin to my bloodlust. People knew about the fringes, but not the dark and twisty core of it. Sharing one with Ragnar was freeing but made me wonder if I could trust him at the same time. 

"Does anyone know?" 

"Most of the family know I can aim, but they've never caught me during the real practice. I like it when people underestimate me."

"How do you do it?"

"These hips are for more than birthing babies."

"My poor sons. They'll rue the day they find out."

My face fell, the glee fading as reality returned. "They're in for a lot of surprises."

"They'll get over it. They have you to fall back on."

"And who will I have?"

"From what I've seen, the boys learned a lot from you. They have grown up to be fine men. For everything you can't share with them, you will have to rely on yourself. And I'm guessing you have more friends than you think." 

I knew he was talking about Lagertha, but I still needed to process her knowing about my past. "I always thought I would have Bjorn beside me. And that he would have me to lean on."

"It seems the time has come for you to take on the responsibilities of ruling. Ubbe is not ready yet." 

After all these years, Ragnar finally chose an heir. Not that it mattered, Lagertha would no doubt plan to take over after Ragnar and Ivar left. Still, Bjorn had taken over after his father left and did well. His main obstacle was Aslaug and her power trip. 

"You missed a lot. I've been ruling ever since you left. She was just a puppet, since you forgot to divorce her." I shot him a sideway glance, seeing he felt properly chastised. 

"I didn't want to harm the boys more than I already did. They would've been forced to leave the hall, Aslaug wouldn't have accepted it. I was taking care of my family."

"As if I'd ever let them grow up without a roof over their head, stop lying to yourself. It only made things worse. Had I made such a decision, you'd have blamed it on my bleeding heart." 

"I wasn't exactly thinking straight when I left," Ragnar snapped. "You can't blame me for wanting what was best for my family."

"Such as your wife? Aslaug will never let me take over from her." I'd sooner kill the bitch myself, but even that was mostly taken care of now. I wouldn't have to lift a hand myself.

"Then force her. She's done a poor job raising the one son she cared about, and she's done a poor job taking care of Kattegat. You know that's true. People will have no trouble following you and Bjorn, but not as you are now. I still know how to read a crowd."

I couldn't believe my ears. "You want me to forgive Bjorn because of it?"

"Don't let Kattegat decide for you. You'll grow to hate each other for real, and Kattegat will not survive with the two of you at war. Ever since I made you a free woman the market has grown larger each year, and more and more people moved here. It started well before I became king. And I fear either you or Bjorn might leave if you fall apart, and that will be the end. The markets will flock to where you go, and the warriors will follow Bjorn. You've poisoned each other for a real chance at something new. You made sure of that when you first started seeing each other." It hurt to hear, but I knew it was true. I hadn't even considered someone else back then, and Bjorn had no luck finding someone else now. Only the gods knew how badly he had tried.

"We live and die together, it seems." It wasn't just the kids that kept us connected. The whole town depended on us, to hear Ragnar talk about it. I wasn't sure if I agreed, but seeing them walk past, not a care in the world, I worried. How would the town look without the markets? How long would it take for us to get invaded if we didn't have any protection?

"And now the gods have given you all these signs. Don't cast them aside idly."

"You speak as if you still believe in them," I said with a scoff. Since when had Ragnar become a motivational speaker?

"You speak as if you're waiting for an excuse to doubt them again." 

Maybe I was. It was easier to ignore what was going on than it was to rise up to what was in front of me. "The boys will want to avenge you," I said, changing the subject again. 

"And how they will grunt, when they hear how the old boar suffered." Ragnar was at least planning to go out with a bang. "Will you join them if they do?"

"I might be with child."

"All the more reason. You got married on your last raid. Maybe this one will save it. If you're as good with your bow as you think you are, you might instill a spark again. From what I gathered, Bjorn prefers women with a certain... fire to them." I could name plenty of names that didn't fit that criterium, but overall, he was right. Now that I thought about it... The others were either not from Scandinavia or were known for their appetites. 

I took in a deep breath as I realized it. He had been trying to find another me, without the complicated history. "Thank you, Ragnar. For everything."

"It is I who should be thanking you, my sweet daughter." He'd never called me that before. He'd felt it, he had made it clear, but to hear it from his mouth... Ragnar truly had changed, and as far as I was concerned it was for the best. 

"The children would love it if you said goodbye to them before you go. They really hate it you're leaving so soon."

"They can come and say goodbye tomorrow. For now, I just want to watch the world pass by." We sat on the ledge in silence. Only the baby goat walking near our feet let out a soft bleating every now and then as life passed before our eyes.


	10. The Wild Rover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-03-815

The night was pleasant, considering Sigurd and Ivar sat next to each other. They made jokes that would have led to a fight any other night, but with Ivar leaving on the morrow, things were finally as I always hoped it would be. It warmed my heart, and I was glad to have them here. 

Ubbe shot me a knowing look, feeling the same. Still, I couldn’t keep my eyes from sliding over to my opposite, where Hvitserk would’ve sat. Only the gods knew where he was, and if he was still alive. It was strange to worry about him like this, he never got into trouble much once he’d stopped following Ubbe’s every command. 

Ivar leaned back, looking satisfied. “If I die in battle, Odin will have his hands full serving me pasta every night.” 

I had to blink a few times to keep from showing my amazement. Ivar never complimented anyone outside of battle. I must’ve outdone myself with the carbonara sauce.

“Do you think it will take you longer to get there because you’ll have to crawl the last part?” Sigurd asked. “We won’t be there to help you out.”

“I imagine the Valkyries will be kind to me,” Ivar smirked. The bite hadn’t gone from their comments, but they could take it better. Their new dynamic was strangely interesting, like they were bickering as normal brothers. Maybe Ragnar coming back wasn’t all bad. 

The door opened. We all looked up, surprised to see anyone come in being gentle with the door. The twins weren’t dragged behind them, either. 

Ivar leaned his elbow on the back rest of the chair he sat on. “It’s past suppertime, can’t you see? Auntie only helps people between breakfast and supper, come back tomorrow.” 

The man closed the door and took a few steps forward, then lowered his hood. Those eyes... Green, the way mother nature had intended the color to be. He had gotten broad now, with brown, sleek hair reaching to his shoulders, still the same mopey set of his eyes, and still only half a head taller than me. 

"I'm sure Ragnhild will forgive me. We've known each other for a long time." 

I slowly got up, blinking a few times to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Ari...

Ari glanced around, his eyes catching on Ivar. "You lived," he whispered as he took in Ivar's legs, seeing the leather straps that kept his legs together. He turned to me, looking just as surprised as I felt. "I heard the rumors, but then…. I knew it. If anyone could, it would be you." He looked at me, eyes wide with amazement. 

"Auntie? What is this halfwit talking about?" Ivar asked. 

I didn't know how to respond. I hadn't had to think about that time for years, and now... There was so much going on around me, already. Ari couldn’t have come back at a worse time.

"Don't you know? She... She's the reason you -" Ari meant to approach Ivar, but he backed away. Ivar didn't like being touched by strangers any more than I did. The difference was that I had to allow it because of my role in the kingdom. 

"Hush," I said as I moved in front of Ari, feeling my fingers itching. Ivar was very much unaware of what had happened when he was born, and I liked to keep it that way. "It doesn't do to dwell on the past. I'm having enough ghosts come to haunt me today. Is it really you?" I gently touched his face, feeling for myself he was really here. He took my hand in his, staring down at the ring.

"You ended up marrying him... I suppose it's a bit late to congratulate you. I take it you've been well?" His eyes slid over the boys, squinting his left eye slightly. My head was spinning. 

"Well enough. Your death weighed on my conscious, the first few years." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"You haven't changed a bit." 

I let him pull me in a loving embrace. "Ari..."

"Ari?" I heard Ubbe get up. "Is that - auntie..."

"The sins of the father are not the sins of the son," Ari said sternly. "I suppose you're Ubbe. I should've known you would be old enough to remember."

"I remember all too well," Ubbe said as he got up. "She told your brother the same thing, once. Didn't end up in his favor."

"Ubbe? You know this man?" Sigurd asked. 

I turned around, seeing more than a few confused looks. Why had the gods sent him here tonight? If it had been at any other time…

"I do. He's supposed to be dead, for a long time." Ubbe was more than happy to rectify that, and once again I was glad to have all the weapons near the door. That rule had saved more lives than I could count on two hands.

"And yet, here I stand. Do you mean to slay me, like your father did to mine? I know what happened."

This had to stop, now. "Calm down," I chided the boys, "he clearly means me no harm. Come, sit. Join us. Where have you been? What brought you back?" Ari put his axe and knife along with the pile next to the door, then sat down next to me, nervously taking in the boys. He wasn't sure what to expect from them. The feeling was mutual.

"I did as you told me. Now I've grown weary of traveling, and I mean to settle down." He had no home to return to, that part of Denmark was now under Bjorn’s rule. No wonder he had come back here, to where it all began. Had he gone back to Roskilde, Graeme would have killed him.

"Who are you?" Sigurd asked, sounding rather pleasant considering the tense atmosphere. His disarming tone put Ari at ease. He knew I wasn't as calm as I appeared. 

"I'm the reason you can now call yourself princes, I suppose. Or at least part of it. My name is Ari Horikson." Ivar drew a knife, stabbing the table with it.

"Ivar! How many times have I told you, no weapons at the table! Get rid of that thing right now! Are you out of your mind? Why would you damage the table like that!" 

Sigurd snickered as Ivar did as I told him.

"One in every family," Ari sighed. "My brother used to be just as ill-tempered."

"Your brother died here," Ubbe spat. He was more familiar with the tale of Horik's demise than I had thought. He had started learning of the game at a young age, and now it showed. I should’ve taught the twins sooner.

"You say that like I should’ve mourned him," Ari said with a smirk. He was growing a little too comfortable. 

"Ari left Horik during a raid on Frisia, his father meant to kill him. He snuck out in the middle of the night and wandered across the mainland for years. He didn't want to become king." 

Ari raised his eyebrow as he glanced at me. "It seems you know where I've been without me telling you. But you're not a Seeress, that much I figured out over the years."

"Your clothes are from all over the place, and they're not equally tattered. You haven't had it easy, but you got by." 

He smiled, kindly, then turned to the boys. "Ubbe, you're obviously the clever one. Sharp mind. Then you must be... Yes, Sigurd. I remember you. Ragnhild always took care of you." I kept my eyes soft on purpose. "I can see in your eyes you're just like your... Auntie, you all call her?"

"And what about me?" Ivar demanded. "Why did you say auntie saved my life?" Ari took him in again. He hadn't been around when Ivar had been born, but I knew rumors of Ivar the Boneless had spread in my network. The crippled son of Ragnar Lothbrok, the one who lived because of the Vessel. No one dared speak of it where Aslaug could hear, or myself for that matter. I was very content to let Ivar in the dark about it for now, I had no mind to explain it all to him with Ragnar back. There were more important things to focus on, like the invasion Lagertha was planning, and Ragnar not planning to return.

"No one told you? I'm sure your brother remembers..." He looked around, but I gave Ubbe a warning look. Whatever he might remember from that time, I didn't want him to answer that question, especially not with Ari in the room.

"Ari. Why did you come here?" I put my hand on his arm, drawing his full attention to me. 

"I need your help, like I said. You helped me follow my dreams once, but my dreams have changed. I need you to tell me what to do. Where will I find a loving wife and a good farm?"

I bit my lip to keep from smirking. "It doesn't work like that. I don't have a wife for you hidden in my house, and farmland is hard to come by, that’s always been the way of things up north."

He leaned in slightly, lowering his head. "Well, you are the Vessel." The hope that poured out of his voice was sickeningly sweet. He’d forgotten how we lived here. Danes were softer than us true Northerners. 

I sighed, feeling none too pleased with all of this. I couldn't just fart and set him up for life. "It doesn’t work like that. Besides, you should be worried about other things first. As you well know, since you've come all this way knowing I am one of the few people who could help you return here. We'll have to get you in front of the Thing."

"I figured as much," he said with a tired sigh. "Things were easier when I left." Back when Ragnar wasn’t king yet, and Erlendur and I had never met.

"He'll never survive if mother catches sight of him," Ubbe said. "Ragnhild doesn't exactly have a good reputation when it comes to Horik's blood."

My jaw clenched. "Ari isn't his brother, though. For one, he never tried to usurp Lagertha. Bjorn will remember him and know that as well as I do." If Aslaug were to preside over the case... Ari would be sure to die, as Ubbe predicted. Would she get to it before Lagertha took over? 

"I wouldn't be too sure," Sigurd interrupted. "Mother will want to have her say." Aslaug would love to put Ari to death, just to have the satisfaction of watching me trying to hide my grief. If I meant to have Ari survive for longer than a week, I'd have to come up with something a little more elegant. 

"Well, what do you propose, then? It's been a while since you got involved in anything important. Tell me how you would help Ari." Having them help would tell me how badly they wanted to impress Ragnar, and what they thought their father would want them to do. As things stood now, Ivar was the one to make trouble.

"I'll help," Ivar said with a sly smile. Whatever would follow, I wouldn’t want to agree. "If he tells me just why I owe you my life." 

"He'll do no such thing. Maybe it would be a good lesson for you, to do something selfless for once." 

"Then what do you propose?" Ubbe scowled at Ari, who shifted around on the bench. 

I might've been mistaken. Ubbe held such contempt his eyes, he could be the one to lash out. Using Ari as a way to gauge the boys would be stupid. If Ubbe and Ivar banded together, it meant trouble. Sigurd was no match against the two of them. 

I didn’t feel confident enough in my own standing. With Ragnar back, Ubbe got back some of his recklessness. "I'll take him to meet Aslaug, he'll get thrown in a cell for a few days until things calm down again, and then I'll talk to her. "

"I'll be gone tomorrow," Ivar grunted. "I want to know how this will end." 

"You'll survive," Sigurd spat. I knew what must have been going on in his mind. The worst always survived. 

"I am not partial to spending time in a cell," Ari brought up. 

"It's not that bad. Besides, you don't really have a choice. Come on, we'll take care of it right away."

"What do you need us to do?" Sigurd asked. I glanced at the plates, smiling an apology. 

"Off to my first raid tomorrow and I'm stuck doing dishes," Ivar muttered. 

"You said you wanted to help. It's not always glamorous with a sword fight at the end."

"I won't help you with this," Ubbe growled as he got up. "I cannot stand by while you make the same mistake as last time." He waited for a second, as if he expected me to lash out at him. When I remained silent, he picked up a few plates and went outside, bumping into Ari with his shoulder as he did. 

"Let's get going," I sighed. "I want to be back when the kids get back." 

"Children?" Ari asked with an excited smile as he put his cloak back on.

"Twins, one of each, and a girl. They’re over at their teacher’s house for the night." Thorfan loved having over visitors. 

"Oh, amazing. I might've fathered some children along the way, but it's not like I stuck around for long. You’re so lucky to have children in your life." 

I smiled, clenching my fist where he couldn’t see.

By the time we got to the hall, I'd decided on what to do to get Ari out of town. Aslaug was eating supper with Vinh, making me stand as tall as I could without making a fool of myself. At least she didn’t seem to be expecting to see me, either. 

"Ragnhild? I thought the boys were having dinner at your place."

"We were, until a visitor came by. I'm sure you remember Ari." Aslaug turned to the figure beside me, taking him in with kind eyes. Her face fell into one of disgust as she recognized him. 

"Why did you bring him here?"

"He seeks permission to settle in our lands. I figured he'd need to ask you."

"You expect me to grant it to him?"

"I expect you to use your best judgement." Which meant I wanted her to do better than I expected. 

"And where will this Horiksson settle?" Vinh spoke with all the regality she could muster. "I ask myself, why did he come to you? Are the rumors of your divorce that well spread?" 

Ari knew he was in over his head. He tried to catch my eye, but I wouldn't look away from Aslaug. Doing so would be admitting Vinh had spoken at all. 

"You do have lands to the east of here," Aslaug mused. "But those are under Bjorn's control until the divorce is finalized. Do you want me to say it's okay for him to live there?"

Even if I asked her to, she wasn’t allowed to interfere with my lands. "You know the law as well as me. This is about Ari, not me. Will you kill him, send him away, or let him swear fealty?" 

Vinh leaned over to Aslaug. "I think she might be lining up suitable husbands," she whispered aloud. 

"The last person to suggest I wed a Horiksson was blood-eagled," I snapped. "He came to me for help, and I consider it my duty to bring those forward who have matters to be decided before the throne. If you're looking for someone who cannot separate her feelings from her work, Aslaug, turn to your left."

Her eyes bore into mine. "Gunnar. Please take Ari to his new abode, and his new friends." 

One of the servants came standing beside us. Ari grew fidgety and nervous. "Ragnhild..." 

Only now did I turn to him. Aslaug had rendered her verdict, and it was now safe to show a modicum of interest in his welfare. "You'll be fine, Ari. Go with him, I'll make sure you get some furs and food." 

Still a little uncertain, he followed along. Gunnar wasn’t exactly gentle, but Ari kept some of his dignity when he shook off his guard’s hand. He was safer than he should’ve expected to be.

Vinh's eyes shot fire at me. "Well played, Vessel. It seems you still get whatever you want done around here." 

Now I’d gotten what I wanted from Aslaug, I didn’t have to hold back anymore. "Don't you have someone else to rid of her fertility?"

"The gods gave you back your fertility," she hissed. 

"Only the one child. And the gods wouldn't even have needed to bless me if you weren't such a fucking cunt!" 

"Ladies!" Aslaug pulled us from our fight. "Ragnhild, you have... Done your duty, as you put it. Now leave us to our supper." Fuming, I took off again. This was Ivar's last night in Kattegat, and I had promised him we'd send him off like he deserved. I had to calm down, if I were to get rid of Ari without anyone knowing it had been my work.


	11. The Anger Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20-03-815

Ragnar leaned back and took me in for what could well be the last time ever. He tried to smile, but he failed. All semblance of strength had gone from his body. There was truly nothing left of him. 

"It seems your daughter is smarter than you already," he said with a knowing smile. It didn't come across, from beneath his droopy eyelids. The many scars on his face added to the rimples that mottled his skin, making him seem older than he was. 

"Freydis is almost six years old. Just because she sounds mature doesn't mean she is." I was glad she'd impressed him, espcially since I had raised her on my own for the most part. I'd done something right. 

"Oh, but she knows. Just like her mother, there are things that she can't explain, but she just knows." The hint of bitterness in his voice told me he was still mad over all the times I refused to explain where I came from, despite my recent offer to tell him anyway. With him departing in less than an hour he grew anxious. 

"She doesn't know anything," I lied. Freydis was special alright, but this was not the time to get into that.

"Are you still blind to the gods you have come to love?" He didn't make sense. How were the gods involved with Ari? "You were pregnant when you misjudged his brother, and now you are with child again you are prone to make the same mistake again." 

I smashed my fist into the table. I had asked him about Ari to get a sense of how Bjorn would react to it, not to have my reliability questioned. Moreover, I still wasn't certain I was pregnant. Skipping one month happened sometimes, when I was stressed more than usual. Or my menopause could be manifesting. 

"I am not blind! Ari walked in here unannounced and the moment he did, he wanted to tell Ivar what happened at his birth. Do you really think I'll let that happen? Ivar can't find out. He'll hate us both. Floki taught him how to love the gods in ways I didn't think possible." The moment Ivar found out, he'd turn to his mother even more. And with Lagertha planning her invasion, there would be plenty of bad blood to deal with. 

Perhaps I should stop her, anyway. The boys would want revenge, and I would be caught in between the blood fued. 

"I wouldn't be too sure of that. They had a falling out, I heard them when I came over." My eyes narrowed as I moved to the edge of my seat. Ragnar was eager to change the subject all of a sudden, and too glad by far to mention it. 

I wouldn't let him get away with it. “Then why bring Freydis into it? She's a child, she doesn't know what's going on around her. Just because she heard Bjorn cheated on me from the twins doesn't mean she knows what to do about Ari, and you bringing it up doesn't mean you know what to do, either.” I was furious at him, for more than just his comments. He thought he could roll back into town and know about everything that went on the moment he did, but he was a fool. He'd been a fool to come back here, as well. 

"Your daughter made sure I spoke to Bjorn before he left. What did you do to him?"

Did he really think she did that on purpose? Was his brain starting to rot? She was gifted with some form of the Sight, not a conniving mastermind. "Why are you so helbent on believing Freydis was involved?" 

"Why are you avoiding my question?"

"You're avoiding mine, too. What do you think Freydis has to do with all of this?" 

"She guided me towards him. She came up to me crying, I barely caught up with him before he went off. He made me rethink everything you told me. So I ask again, what did you do to him? What made him move out?"

"You don't have the right to ask me that kind of question," I hissed. "You make it sound like it's all my fault. What do you want to accomplish, anyway? Do you mean to set me straight and save our marriage before you go off to die?" 

That stubborn Lothbrok-look came to his eyes, but I'd been dealing with that for a decade and a half. Ragnar didn't impress me, not anymore. "What if I do?"

I was fuming, but he wasn't fazed at all. "I'd call you a fool and a liar. You're only here for your own selfish gains, telling everyone things they needed to hear from you before you left." 

“If you say so…” 

I hated when they said that. Him, Lagertha, and they had taught Bjorn, as well. Even the boys had taken to using that tone with me, somehow. They always said it when they thought they knew better, it was their response to my just knowing things. "You don't have much longer to live, old man. Say what you want, then get out of my life for good." 

Ragnar chuckled as he shook his head, smiling as he leaned in as well. It did nothing to improve my mood. "Your motives are still coming from that bleeding heart of yours," he said as he leaned back. "I witnessed Ivar going against his mother, she tried to keep him here." 

Ragnar kept going in circles. There were still things to discuss between us, so I bit my tongue. Nevertheless, this was interesting news. Ivar never went against her, never spoke ill of her. Aslaug was the one to always stand right behind him, making sure he wouldn't fall. His brothers had gone against me when they started to notice I didn't hold all the answers, starting as soon as Ragnar left, but Ivar… He had always been either impartial about me or mad at me.

"If he finally chose to think for himself I can only be happy for him. She's kept him back long enough, you know what I meant to do for him. Floki still has the designs." Aslaug's hatred from my brother kept her from seeing what was best for her son. Jozef had made Ivar's condition so much more manageable, but it all amounted to nothing because we had found out he was a Christian, when he was already dead. Ivar could have been walking around on crutches for years, now.

"You let me believe it was Aslaug who kept my sons from hating me. Was that meant to soothe my spirit? Did you believe it would be kinder for me to die thinking of Aslaug as a fit mother?"

"I told you what you needed to hear."

"You told me I was wrong to leave her in a place of power."

"I told you that your sons aren't just dependent on me. I know all too well what you think of me, and of how I raised your sons." 

He scoffed, not believing a word I said. As if I couldn't see how disappointed he was in me, that his sons were too weak in his eyes, how unlike Bjorn they were. Whether he liked it or not, Bjorn had left his traces in them as well. His sons' failings weren't only mine. "If that were true, you would have been smart enough to realize I would find out. There's hardly a trace of Aslaug in them, except for Ivar of course. He can't see beyond his own perspective as she does. It's like they're our sons, not mine and Aslaug's." If he really thought that to be true, he was in for one rude awakening.

I didn't relish breaking his heart, but if he insisted on playing me for a fool, I had to burst his bubble. He'd never accomplish his goals if he was this far off the mark. "They haven't been yours for years, now." 

It was a wonder to behold, in all its tragic. Ragnar's eyes lost their shine, then the corner of his lips twitched. His face fell, mouth curling down, and then he couldn't look at me any longer. He grieved over my words. He knew them to be true, and it hurt him to the depths of his spirit. I thought he might go against me, deny my claim, but instead he broke.

"You were never cruel like this," he said, his voice vulnerable. 

"I never had to be, when you were around. But it's the truth. You were gone longer than they were with you. Bjorn and I taught the boys about the game, about the gods, and about how you never, ever leave those you love behind." 

He closed his eyes for a second, then looked down at his cup. "Then why did you and Bjorn not last? You getting back together was the one thing I was not worried about. All you needed was time, and I know you made him patient." 

"What do you remember from our last night?" I asked, a finger circling the rim of my mug. 

"I remember you letting go of your fears, for once. You spoke of your hopes, and danced, and sang." He remembered more, as did I. 

"We spoke, a lot. You warned me about Harald and how far his ambitions went. You made me promise I would take care of the boys, and I did. I'm not sure how much I told you about Kol. It can't be a lot, seeing how you left things." 

He frowned, taking me in. He didn't remember shit about that part. "What of it?" 

"I'm talking about the son I lost. The one that was taken away from me before he was born, the one that cost me my marriage." My anger slowly rose. If Ragnar hadn't left Aslaug on the throne, she would've been dead already. 

"All you spoke of was your sorrow, and how Bjorn abandoned you." 

I snarled, looked away, then took a deep breath. "You never saw, but the scars I bore after losing Kol were horrible. Vinh tore apart my womb, she cut my thighs to shreds, and each and every scar I had became part of a prayer." 

"A prayer?" He wouldn't understand. Already he knew as much as Bjorn, and even he didn't understand.

"Every night before I fell asleep, I would trace the scars. Each one was another promise, a reason for me to... You wouldn't get it." I looked away again, my eyes stinging.

"And yet you want to talk about it. What was the prayer? I'm sure you still remember."

Sighing, I resigned myself to having to say the words out loud again. After, Ragnar would understand what I wanted to talk about, and why.

"I hate him. He took away my choice. He chose me over our son. He killed Kol. I should have been the one to die. I'll remember this pain forever. I'll never bear another child. The choice was mine. Mine alone. No matter what I do, I will never be happy again. I failed my son. These marks are a reminder. I will not fail my other children. I refuse to let them down. This I swear." As the prayer went on, Ragnar felt the pain in the words. His face turned into one filled with pity, making me hate him even more.

"Floki told me of the scars, and that they disappeared. I know you. Which one was the last to go, that made your marriage fall apart?" Floki would get a scolding for this. He knew better than to talk about Kol or anything surrounding him.

"It's not that simple," I insisted. "The gods had nothing to do with my scars, I haven't gotten any signs from the gods for years."

His eyes wandered to my belly. "If you say so... But then I wonder, why did it all go wrong?" However little Bjorn trusted me, I trusted Ragnar even less. Just because he knew me ten years ago didn't mean he knew me now. He'd been selfish and everything that came from it had changed me.

"You're still as cruel as you once were, and I hate you for it. My children convinced me to choose for myself. If I can't get Bjorn back during the raid, we'll go on with the divorce and I'll go looking for another place to stay."

Ragnar's face intensified. "You'll do what?"

"When Bjorn and I get a divorce, I mean to leave Kattegat." I wouldn't stick around to watch him get a new wife. I had found back a substantial part of my pride, and I had thought it through. The twins weren't that invested into ruling yet, and I couldn't bear to see Bjorn remarry and have more children. 

"You'd take them away from their birthright."

I loved the look of despair in Ragnar's face. I could be cruel, too. "They can decide for themselves, as Bjorn did." They would choose me, anyway. 

"You told them they wouldn't have to choose between their parents, what do you call this?"

"I call it standing up for myself. I have no desire to see Bjorn fall in love with someone else. I want us to work, but if we won't I have to choose for myself." I meant it. If a revenge campaign wouldn't get us back together, nothing would.

"Where would you even go?"

"Hedeby," I said, unfazed. Ragnar scowled at the answer. If Lagertha came here to take over Kattegat, maybe I could go there to govern those lands for her. There were plenty of women there that we had helped get out of an abusive situation. I would know some people by name, at least. I scoffed as I realized jarl Borg had told me to go there years ago.

"You would repeat the same mistakes me and Lagertha made?"

"Do you still think she made a mistake leaving you? I think she showed exceptional strength that day, and I feel blessed to know she would support me." I dared him to go against me with my eyes. Ragnar could say what he wanted, he would be leaving in an hour anyway.

"This is wrong. You and Bjorn are not me and Lagertha. I know you can be stubborn, and the gods know how many times I have cursed you for it, but I have never pleaded with you before." He put his hands on mine, leaning in. He had never looked at me with such desperation before. It didn't suit him. 

"You're reading too much into this. Bjorn went to Ribe and he turned out fine."

His grip on my fingers tightened. "Because he came back! Do you even know what you would be walking in to! Ragnhild, I beg of you, you can't... Don't leave Kattegat, ever." His plea started to sound desperate. I tore away the hand he was squishing.

"You can't tell me what to do. You've taught me a lot, but when the time came for you to listen to me, you refused to hear me out. I told you to get off that shit before it was too late, and you went ahead and did it anyway. Now you want to lecture me again?"

"You don't understand. Please, let me explain myself. It's the last thing I will ask of you, ever."

"That's not a hard claim to make when you're off to get killed," I snapped, then kept my mouth shut. 

Ragnar sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose, then looked up again. "I let Lagertha go, and that was the worst decision of my life. She lost our son, and I cheated on her to deal with my grief. I felt responsible for the child, and took Aslaug as my wife. She turned out to be tenacious and vindictive, and it's only grown worse over the years. I worry that if you leave Kattegat, the same thing will happen. The twins will want to get to know their father again at one point, and then be rivals to his new children. His new wife will fight you every step of the way, and you will go against her to protect what you once loved. Bjorn will be forced to choose between you and his new wife again, and he won't be able to make a choice."

"Bjorn isn't you," I said as he caught his breath. "You don't know him anymore."

"I know Lagertha knows him, and I heard more than I cared for after he tried to rape you. I know he didn't want to be like me, and you were the one to point out that he was more like me than he wanted. You knew what you were getting into when you married him." I scoffed, not believing my ears. 

"You want to know what happened that badly? Have me tear open those wounds at a time I need to be stronger than ever? Fine, I'll fucking tell you, and when you reach Valhalla you can tell the gods it's their fault, too. After Freydis was born -"

A telltale knock came from the door. I shut up immediately, forcing my anger down as I went for the door. "That's Ivar," I whispered as I got up. 

"Auntie! Open up!"

"I'll have my fair share of him for the coming weeks," Ragnar muttered under his breath. 

I raised an eyebrow at Ragnar's childish behavior. "Then hide, because I won't refuse him." Ragnar got up, cup in hand, and moved behind the screen that kept the childrens' beds out of sight. When he was gone from sight I opened up the door. 

"Took you long enough," Ivar muttered as he crawled inside. 

"You visit me two days in a row? I thought last night's celebration was enough to leave you hungover until you reached England." 

Ivar removed his sword and three knives, giving me a stare that told me he thought I was childish for enforcing the rules. 

"You still owe me a repaired table top, don't get smart with me. Can I get you something to drink?"

Ivar lifted himself up on the bench, then dusted off his hands. "Ale, of course. I'm a man." 

"That doesn't mean you have to drink all day, every day." Still, I got him a cup. "Aren't you supposed to be boarding by now?" 

"I still have some time. I know this might come as a surprise, but I have need of your services." He had never come to me in my role as the Vessel.

I blinked a few times as I poured him a drink. "Then tell me, what worries you?" I handed him his drink and sat down opposite of him.

"I had a falling out with my mother. She's upset, and I want to ask you to take care of her while I go away." 

I didn't know how to respond. Ivar was well aware of the reluctant acceptance between me and Aslaug. "As a rule, I don't clean up other people's messes. I only give advice, so I don't get caught up in whatever goes on myself." 

"Like you did for Ari? Don't lie to me, it's embarrassing enough to have to show up here like a commoner." 

"What was the disagreement about? I'll keep this private," I said, very aware of Ragnar hiding away in a corner. "No one will ever know or breathe as much as a word."

Ivar thought for a second as he took a large gulp. "Mother had a vision, about me drowning on our way over. She didn't want me to go, and I told her off for coddling me." 

I didn't have to feign surprise. I knew that she coddled him, even now, but to hear it from him… 

"Don't act surprised, you know how she gets."

"I'm just surprised to hear you went against her. You know all of her visions come true, as far as I know there is only one she ever tried to stop." It was the reason I was here, in the first place. 

"Are you saying I will drown?" He had heard the tales, of her having had a vision before Kol had died. Everyone had heard the rumor, but those involved had not indulged anyone. Frida and the Lawmaker disappearing had made sure of that.

"I'm saying her interpretation is right most of the time. Seers often interpret a vision based on what they know, you knowing of it might be enough to change it. Did she truly see you drown, or did she just see a storm? Was there just an image of you underwater, or did she see the life disappear from your eyes?"

"How am I supposed know," Ivar said, clearly agitated. "I'm not a Seer."

"She's wrong more often than the Seer, which is why we turn to him for wisdom when it comes to the gods. He Sees all, while your mother sees what applies to her direct environment. If you want to know if you will drown at sea, then go to him."

His jaw clenched. "I came here to ask you to look after my mother."

"You know very well that I only give advice. I don't make promises or oaths, as I do not control what the gods have in store for us. You came to me as the Vessel, not as your auntie. So unless there is something else you would like to ask me about…"

"There is," he admitted, looking down at his cup. "About my father." 

Ragnar shouldn't be here. He shouldn't hear any of this, but it was too late now to drag him out from behind the screens. Ivar would never forgive me.

"What worries you? Oh, come on, you wouldn't come to me unless it was something that bothered you. You know how I think of him, you heard me rant about him often enough."

"Why does he want me with him?" I took a deep breath, knowing I couldn't answer him truthfully. "You never told me what he thinks of me, no one did." Not even Aslaug… If I told him now, he would leave Kattegat angry and spiteful. 

"Do you know why the gods favor the number three?" I asked. Ivar frowned as he took a swallow of his ale. "Because the number three means balance. For every action is a reaction, and every choice has a consequence. But there's something else that matters. Before an action takes place, there needs to be a trigger. For every choice, there is a reason."

"Is this about me being the fourth child?"

"You were his fifth, of course not. This is about balance. Sometimes the wrong thing to do as a person is the right thing to do for the community as a whole. I didn't understand at first what made him think like that about his own son, but -"

"You don't make sense," he said with a scowl.

I sighed. Ivar wasn't making this any easier. "Then let me put it in terms you understand. Odin stole the Mead of Poetry from Suttung, even though we know that stealing is bad. He even ended up killing the giant, with the help of the gods of Asgard. When Skadi came to the great Citadel for wergeld, Odin did not refuse her, despite his pure intentions. He gave her the chance to choose her husband, though she had to choose by their feet. He was wrong and right at the same time in reclaiming the Mead, and thus he chose a middle ground when Skadi came to call." He nodded, seeing the sense in my words. 

"I understand. But how does this apply to my father?" 

"Because… Your mother was adamant about keeping you alive, when you were born. I can still recall it as if it happened yesterday. Your mother was exhausted from giving birth, Siggy begged me to bless you during the night so you would come out in time. She wanted to do what was right for you. Se loved you the moment she laid eyes on you, if not before then. But your father thought... You know what happens, when children are born with a disability." Ivar sunk down into his rage, and I understood it perfectly. Ivar had every right to cuss the man out.

"You're wrong. The gods meant for me to live, so I did. You don't know what they mean to happen, you said so yourself. You don't get to say anything about my fate! The gods decided I would live, and I did!" 

I didn't say a thing as he crawled off. He didn't bother closing the door. It had been a mistake to tell him this much, he was too young to handle it. Tough as he thought he was, he was only fourteen. At that age, I… 

"You couldn't resist sharing my part of the story?" Ragnar asked as he sat down again. "I thought we agreed to keep that quiet."

"You're about to die anyway," I snapped. "I'll be the one that has to keep things from falling apart."

"Just how much did I miss?"

I wasn't able to feel pity for him. Everything Ivar had to do just to stay alive, it flooded my mind. Ivar wasn't wrong to be that bitter. Anyone would've been. "You have a tide to catch. Ari will be the last on our minds when Ivar makes it back, that much is clear to me now."

"And those would be your last words to me?" 

"Oh, please. We had the emotional goodbye already, and you know I hate you for all that you did after Paris."

"Ragnhild…"

I couldn't shut up again. "Siggy dying was the worst thing to ever happen to you. She was the one to keep you on your toes, she made you want to do the best you could. It all went to shit after that, don't tell me that losing the settlement was the thing that broke you. I've heard enough lies from you to last me a fucking lifetime."

"No matter what you say, I want you to know that I love you." It was too little, too late. The anger I felt, the hardship he had thrust upon me, I had no more patience for it. 

"Save that for the fools that still have a sliver of love left for you. You coming back here is the worst thing to happen to me since my son died." He'd gone all over town, saying the things everyone wanted to hear so he'd get some shred of sympathy from all of them. It had even worked on me, fool that I was. I used to be able to pick up on that kind of bullshit from a mile away.

"You can't mean that. Just a few minutes ago you asked for my advice on Ari."

"That was before your son reminded me of all the damage you have done. If anyone ruined Ivar, it was you. I don't need your help with Ari, or with raising my children. Get out, now." If this was to be the last time I saw him, I was glad to finally say these things to his face. He put down his cup and left, feeling sorry for himself most of all.

I followed him out and kept my distance, seeing Ragnar pull himself together as he made his way to the beach. It was expected of me to say goodbye, and I wanted to be there for Ivar. When he'd come back, everything would be different. 

There were only three ships, and they were hardly filled. Getting Ivar back alive all depended on Ragnar's friendship with Ecbert, and from what I heard that would be hard to make happen. 

From a safe distance I stood by and watched the departure happen. Ivar caught sight of me and turned away in anger, and as Ragnar caught me, I was the one to turn away. He could rot in Helheim, for all I cared. Because of him Bjorn and I were forced to face off against Aslaug, having to pretend to have our difference of opinion on Ivar, me taking the brunt of Ivar's ensuing rage. Because of the great King Ragnar, I was forced to take on the care of six children, seven when Freydis was born. Because of him, my life had turned into one of a stay-at-home mother, where I had wanted to do so much more. 

After the ships went off I saw Sigurd herd the children as Ubbe came my way. Ubbe wanted to speak to me alone. He couldn't have picked a worse time. 

"Just what were you thinking?" he asked as he stood in front of me. If he thought to play the fatherly figure after all these years of me taking care of him, he was sorely mistaken. "Do I need to remind you what happened with Erlendur?"

"You don't get to throw that in my face," I spat back. "I know what I'm doing."

"You can't set up a plan to get rid of him on your own."

"With your darling mother in charge, I don't have to." Ubbe stared down at me intently. His eyes remained hard, but I had made up my mind.

"You mean for Aslaug to execute him?"

"Just because he asked for help doesn't mean I have to give it to him. I have lived with the burden of having killed Ari for years, doing it myself now isn't that much of a bother." I had killed plenty of people ever since, or had been responsible at the least.

"It's not the same," he insisted. 

The people around us were starting to drift off towards their day to day chores, having spent enough time watching Ragnar and Ivar depart for England. I remained silent as Ubbe walked me home, wanting to continue the conversation in private. He didn't know half the things that were about to unfold. 

"I'm stronger than you think," I told him as I put the kettle on. 

"You spent a week crying over having to let Happy go."

"I've known that goat almost as long as you," I reminded him. The goat was a touchy subject.

"Auntie..."

I turned around, exasperated. "Ubbe." 

"You're impossible. What do you even hope to achieve? If you want him dead, just tell mother."

I couldn't believe how thick he was. "If I tell her I want him dead, she'll do the opposite. You know how bad things have gotten between us."

"You're just still ticked off over Vinh being there when you brought him in."

"She had no right interfering," I told my mug. 

"She took your fertility." 

Even though that remained to be seen, I had no intention of telling anyone yet. If things happened as Ragnar had set them up... It wouldn't do to throw a wrench in his plans, he was right about wanting to exact vengeance. Lagertha's plans could well get disrupted, and with it, my desire to see Aslaug killed. I needed Ari to disappear quietly, and not raise any suspicions. 

"Vinh should have died a long time ago," I muttered. "For what she did to me, the gods should have punished her."

"You had your own fair share in that," Ubbe sneered. 

I couldn't breathe anymore. My heart got ripped from my chest, the ache so bad I wanted to claw at it to rip out my own heart, if only to stop it from hurting.

Ubbe rushed to my side, but I kept him at a distance. "I'm sorry. Auntie, please..." 

I took a minute, just sitting at the table, lip shaking and tears burning behind my eyes. I took in a ragged breath, trying to keep it all in. "Go," I whispered. Eyes closed, I heard Ubbe close the door behind him. Kol... My little cabbage. Revenge was coming, soon. After ten long years, it was coming. First Aslaug would die, and then Vinh would follow. 

Somewhere on the road to Trondheim, three corpses had gone to dust. I wouldn't be able to put Aslaug's with the others, but her death would be just a step closer to finally achieving my goal. Then, only Vinh would remain. 

Frida, the Lawgiver, and sweet, innocent Lofn. None of them died by my hand, but I had been the one to whisper. I'd been prepared to kill Frida myself, but then Lagertha had interfered. The Lawmaker had been eaten by wild animals, all I ever found back of him were his clothes and half-eaten limbs. But soon I would be able to leave it all behind. My anger, my rage, my resentment.


	12. Archery Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 25-03-815

"What's wrong with spending a day together with the family?" I asked Thormund. He looked anything but pleased to be heading towards the range. 

"I don't want to spend the day with just girls," he complained. 

I kept a scowl back. He was pissed off about something, but even Siggy couldn't reach out to his hand. "We're not just girls, and you know that. You don't have to keep pouting, I just want to spend time with all of you, together. We haven't done anything like this in such a long time. Can you at least try and have fun?"

"But I don't even like the bow! I want to practice my sword-fighting with Ubbe."

His attitude was getting on my nerves. "All the more reason to put in some hours. You should know how to fight with a long-ranged weapon."

"Why can't I just use a crossbow for that?" 

"Because they take too long to reload, you know that. Crossbows are for defense and when you already have the advantage, not for anything else. Besides, I want to try and teach you a trick I've been working on. I've never heard anyone do it before, so it's difficult to learn. But if you're still leaning towards the crossbow... I'm just wondering if you're not too young for it..." Now Thormund seemed to get interested. He saw through my cheap lies, but he knew I did have something he would want to see at least.

"When did you have time to practice a new trick?" Siggy said. "You're always home when we are, or off to the market."

"It took me years to learn," I admitted. "If you want to learn it, I'll be glad to train you to do it as well, but it'll mean you have to work a little less on swords and axe."

"Since when did you turn into a warrior?" Siggy said, taking me in. To her, I didn't look much like a warrior, without braids or a shield in my hands.

"Well, I got a bit tired of practicing on still targets, and since I couldn't get them to move, I decided I could move instead."

"What's the point in that?" Thormund asked. 

"It means I could chase someone through the woods and fire at them at the same time, and shoot as my horse is in pursuit. It means I can run through a battle and still have easy pickings, instead of having to switch weapons and target as the enemy draws near. It means I can surprise the enemy. Does that sound like a good reason?" 

"So that's why you're wearing pants," Freydis said. 

"Exactly," I said, proud she noticed. "Pants mean I can move around more easily. Skirts tend to get stuck on branches if you plan on running through these thick woods." We had arrived at the range. 

I explained what I had come across as difficulties, such as having to change your balance as you run. When they seemed to understand what I wanted them to do and why we started working on the technique. Freydis still had trouble drawing out her small bow because of her age, but she wanted to join in on the fun nonetheless. 

After a few times running back and forth to the targets as a warm-up, I handed the children their bows, telling them to try and run with the bow in hand and trying to keep it steady. Freydis fell over a few times but didn't let it deter her. 

"This is impossible!" Siggy exclaimed. "Are you sure this is even possible?" That sly devil wanted to see if I really could do such a thing. I didn't have to see the twinkle in his eyes, or the one lighting up in Thormund's to know what they wanted.

I could give them a little show. I got my own bow and a quiver out, determined to show them I could be bad-ass as well. 

I nocked an arrow. "Do you see how I'm standing? As I'll run towards the target, notice how I move while my hips to stay stable, and how my shoulders barely move unless I have to." I started running, moving from left to right and back, putting arrows in all four targets, only firing as my shoulders were still as stone. With the balancing of my body through my hips, it left my shoulders free to take aim. 

"Wow, mom! That's amazing!" The glint in Thormund's eyes was a hungry one. He wanted to know how to do this, while Siggy was thinking hard. They made a formidable team, together. They would be able to protect Freydis when I was gone. Or do their damndest trying. 

I flourished into a bow, excited to finally have someone acknowledge my hard-earned skills. "Now try again, I want to see if you can manage that moving with your hips," I shouted back. Enthusiastic once more, I saw the twins give it their best. Siggy's hips were much looser than Thormund's, who was struggling to get up to speed. Freydis just hobbled along, not used to so much running, but she beamed up at me every time she ran past.

"That's looking better, but you really need to loosen up those hips, Thormund. Come on, I'll show you how to do it." I put my bow down and put my hands to my hips, drawing large circles with them. 

"That looks ridiculous," Thormund said. Still, seeing Siggy and Freydis joining me, he grunted and joined in. 

I let them run a few more times, but then I noticed fatigue started to affect their legs. We got back to our stuff and I put down some chopped off trunks. I told them to stand on them, and try and hit the targets as they jumped off. Siggy and Thormund both managed to hit the target a few times, eliciting praise from me. Most arrows flew over, though, leaving them to often have to search in the woods. Freydis' arrows rarely made it all the way to the target, often landing in front of the target as she wobbled on the trunk. 

I decided to get a few arrows in myself, hitting the target every time. Only twice I missed the center. It distracted me from what would be happening in the village right about now. I figured it would be safer the longer we stayed out here, as I had no idea how long it would take to take over Kattegat. 

It depended greatly on how many warriors Lagertha had, as well as how quick Aslaug was in getting her defenses active. Even then, the fewer bodies were still in the streets when we got back, the better it would be for the children. 

Only when the sun started to sink below the trees did we return, the children all exhausted from working hard. I wanted to feel proud of them, but my anxiety over the town won out. 

The marketplace at the edge of the village was almost deserted, most merchants having packed up and wanting to leave immediately. It would probably be a while until the market was full of life again, word traveling fast about what had happened here. There was hardly any blood, but arrows still stuck from wooden poles and walls. 

"What happened?" Freydis asked as she pulled on my shirt. "Where is everyone?" 

The twins were too stunned to react. They watched, spotting broken arrows and shields, droplets of blood sprayed on the wooden stalls. They knew, but they couldn't believe it yet. 

"Let's go home. I want you safe first, then I'll find out," I said, also a bit perplexed by all that had happened. I couldn't see if Lagertha had succeeded, it was still too early to have changed the banners if she did. 

I quickly got the children home, telling them to lock the doors from the inside. As I made my way to the hall, I saw a crowd gathered in the old market square. The crowd didn't let me through until I shoved ahead. There were too many people standing, too many curious faces wanting to catch what would happen.

Aslaug offered her the sword that once had belonged to king Horik. Judging by the sheen, Aslaug had not tried to fool Lagertha, or she just didn't know this was the real sword. I'd missed at least half of it.

"All I ask is safe passage," Aslaug asked in a clear voice. Anyone would've heard. Aslaug turned around and started to walk off towards the beach. 

No. This couldn't be it. There was a price to pay, for what she had done. Lagertha let her go, but it couldn't be that easy. She knew, what Aslaug had done to me. No, she was getting away... 

I shoved ahead until I stood in the first row. Aslaug couldn't get away like this. I'd sooner stab her in the neck myself than let her go. If she managed to get on a ship... Lagertha must've understood my message about the cabbage. Why was she letting that bitch get away? This was my last chance.

Aslaug caught sight of me, showing no emotion. Her eyes didn't linger. She acted like we meant nothing to each other. Like she wasn't responsible for murdering my son, letting that cretin tear my baby from my womb. 

I'd kill her! Her blood would run down my face when I tore out her neck with my bare teeth! I'd claw at her wrists until she bled out! She wouldn't get away, not after all these years! My eyes burned with the sting of tears. I'd get my revenge. 

The thrum of an arrow sent loose pierced the silence, and a soft smile came to Aslaug's face. I was too stunned to move. My nails no longer dug into my palms, the skin underneath searing as the pressure disappeared. Lagertha still had her bow pointed towards her target. As Aslaug's body fell to the floor, Lagertha looked at me and gave the slightest nod. 

I ran up to Aslaug, turning her on her back. Her pupils still showed a response. If there ever was a time, this was it. She still breathed, but with a punctured lung, she wouldn't be able to make a sound. This was it.

"You let my son die," I whispered as I pulled her close. "You let him die, and finally I have my revenge. Rot in Helheim, you bitch." Her eyes became intense as I stared into her, then lost their light. It was over. Her body would grow cold from here. They would bathe her and dress her up, fix her hair the last time, and then she would burn. 

With shaking fingers I closed her eyes, trying to hold back from crying. I didn't know if I would be able to contain my laughter. Aslaug had known I was out for her blood, and to have Lagertha be the one to do it... That must've been the smile, she hadn't seen this coming, at all. She thought to get out of town before I reached her, she'd only played to feel calm and confident. 

And with her gone, there was only one target left. Ten years, and finally... Justice, for Kol. For my sweet boy, who never even got a chance to open his eyes, or to take his first breath. My only solace was hoping he would wait for me in the Afterlife.

I felt the warmth of Aslaug's blood soaking the arm that supported her, making me shiver as it connected to my skin. A ragged breath, the intense desire to scream in victory but the air left my lungs slowly, not a sound from my quaking lips. Not here, not in public. 

I let out a pitiful whine, hating myself for feeling so good about this. The woman had brought me here and then had taken away my will to live. She had ruined me, and now, finally... She was dead, and I was able to complete my revenge. Ten years... The gods had been cruel, to make me wait this long, but it only made it taste all the sweeter now. I'd kill Vinh myself. I'd strangle her, or maybe stab her a thousand times. Her blood would run down my hands; I would hold onto her heart as it stopped beating. 

"Ragnhild." Lagertha sounded commanding. 

I looked up, seeing her standing before me. I wiped away the hot tears, jerked back to reality. I let go of Aslaug, carefully letting her body down on the dusty ground.

Lagertha looked fierce, ready to lash out again. "Will you stand against me?" 

I got up, looking at the faces around me. They were still, waited for me. They... They would follow me. With Aslaug dead, and Bjorn gone, I was the one in charge. I needed to surrender or die for Aslaug's honor. This was something I hadn't anticipated.

I bent my knees, keeping my back straight as I lowered my head. "I swear fealty to you, Queen Lagertha."

"Then rise, Ragnhild Freyjasdottir. You will always have a place by my hearth, and find shelter, meat, and mead in my home." She took hold of my shoulder, giving me a reassuring smile. 

I turned to the crowds, knowing I'd have to sway them, as well. "All hail, Queen Lagertha!" The chant rose up all around us, like a thunderstorm. "All hail, Queen Lagertha!"

"Nice touch, with the tears," Lagertha whispered as she pulled me close. 

"Ten years is a long time."

"You almost missed it."

"I have to tell the children." 

She let go of me, watching the people gather around her to celebrate and welcome her back. Already she was well loved. I saw Torvi standing near the hall as I made my way home. I meant to raise my voice and call out, but then she shared a smile with Astrid. 

The children opened the door even before I could touch the handle, pulling me in and bombarding me with questions. I shook off the image of Bjorn fucking that twig, then beckoned the children to sit down while I took off my own cloak. Thormund would sooner strangle me with it, that boy was losing track of his own strength. 

Freydis leaning into me, the twins staring me down from the other end of the table, I took a deep breath. "A lot has happened, and you need to hear it from me. Lagertha has invaded Kattegat. She took the village unprepared." I got three frowns.

"Why would grangran overthrow grandma?" Siggy's hand reached out to Thormund's underneath the table. It helped her think. I understood her reaction. Sometimes, logic was easier than feelings.

"Because grangran was once married to grandpa, and when grandma came to Kattegat, Lagertha felt forced to leave. Grangran wanted revenge for that, and now she's the queen." No doubt Lagertha would want to throw a huge funeral to calm down the boys. I would be the one to organize most of it, damnit. The stress of that alone might just suffice to have me skip another period. I needed to be certain before I made my next move. Moreover, I wanted to focus on killing Vinh before she decided to skip town.

"But doesn't that have to do with grandpa? Who gets to be queen?"

I sighed, knowing this would break their hearts even more. "I don't think grandpa will return from England. He was gone for so long, I think he just wanted to end his life while trying to make right some of the mistakes he had made."

"You knew," Siggy whispered. "You knew grangran would attack today. That's why you took us out to the forest." 

I wasn't sure if I could come up with a plausible explanation for the children, though I had come up with a story to tell Ubbe and Sigurd. "Would you be mad at me if I did?" 

"Why didn't you tell us?" Thormund asked. "We could have protected grandma. We could have defended her!" 

I put a hand on his fist. "This was between grandma and grangran. It was not my place to come between them, nor yours. I knew it would happen today, there was nothing I could have done except keep you safe."

"Bullshit," Siggy spat. "What did Astrid want from you? Did she ask you to help Lagertha?" 

I felt proud of her, knowing to connect those dots. She was l living up to her name already, but this was not the time to get sentimental. "Lagertha wanted to ask me if I would oppose her if she tried."

"Then why didn't you say you would?"

"Because it would happen anyway. If Lagertha was successful, my family would be safe. If she was defeated, my family would be safe. Sometimes doing nothing is the smartest option."

Thormund rose up, but Siggy kept him down, clinging to his arm with a desperation I hadn't seen in her for a long time. "How can you say that! I'm a man! I should've defended grandma!" 

I stared at him, daring him to go against me. "Thormund. There was more going on here than you will ever understand, but I want you to know this. I love both your grandmothers. Lagertha asked me if I wanted to help her, but I didn't. I bought your lives and those of your uncles, in exchange for doing nothing. And do you know what Lagertha told me when I asked why she would agree with that?" 

The twins sat in silence, but in their bodies a storm brewed. I had to make them understand.

Freydis clutched my dress as she pushed her face into the fabric. Her words came out muffled. "What did grangran tell you?"

I wrapped an arm around her, hating how I had to have this conversation with all of them at the same time. She needed time and comfort, while the twins needed to hear the blunt truth to keep them from lashing out. "She knows things about me that she could have used, to force me to come and help her. She could have made me help her attack. But she didn't. Lagertha wants to keep Kattegat safe, and she let me choose how I wanted to act. She could have given me nothing, but instead, she promised me everything I wanted."

"That still sounds like cowardice," Thormund grunted. "By doing nothing, you did the worst possible."

He'd not get away with calling me a coward twice. "How many times have I told you, you have to choose your battles. You can fight in every battle you come across, but it will mean nothing if you don't have anything to fight for. And I chose to fight for my family. I chose to keep you safe from harm. Do you blame me for wanting to be a good mother? Do think your father would have wanted me to act differently?" 

Siggy wanted to storm off, but I grabbed her by the arm before she could go through the door. "You can't tell me what to do!"

It cost me all I had to keep from yelling at her. "I am your mother. I can make you do whatever I want. I am talking to you like an adult now, but if you insist on acting like a child, I will ground you for a moon!" 

She stopped fighting me. What about Bjorn made her want to avoid the mere mention of him? Thormund's face didn't betray a thing. Siggy sta down next to him again, looking closer to tears than she had been for years.

"I know you think I'm being hard and cold, but this is what it means to rule. There are many forms of being strong. Your father fights in raids and leads our people, Lagertha took over when she saw that Aslaug wasn't fit to be queen, and I did what I had to, to keep my family safe. Now it's your turn to be strong, by accepting you can't change anything right now. Grandma is dead, and you can't do anything to get her back. Trying to avenge her will mean you will die, or you will make yourself look like a fool. And I didn't raise fools." I pulled Freydis onto my lap, clinging to her, hoping I was right about that. 

"You did support her," Thormund said quietly. "If you didn't, why would she let you know when to get out of the village?" Normally he wasn't as observant as Siggy or even Freydis, but when it came to fighting and strategy, he was as sharp as anyone. 

"Because you are Bjorn's children as much as mine. Do you think your father will thank Lagertha for having us all killed? She needed to know I would stay out of her way, so she still had Bjorn on her side when he comes back."

Siggy shifted around uncomfortably, Thormund noticed, too. "What does she have on you? It must be something big." 

I closed my eyes. Having just found out Lagertha knew was still fresh in my memory, but I didn't want to lie to my children. A half-truth would have to do. "I will tell you, but only because I don't want to lie to you. Other than your father and Lagertha, no one knows about this. You must keep this a secret, you can never mention it to anyone, not even to let on that you know. Is that understood? If anyone were to find out, I could be forced to leave Kattegat, and you. I was born in a different country. A Christian country. My parents gave me a Christian name. I changed it when I got here, and have never regretted it for a moment." 

I let that sink in for a moment, taking a deep breath. The twins needed a distraction from this, or they would get stuck in their hatred from Christians. "What do you know of the Christian god?" I asked. 

"It's a false god," Thormund said immediately. "Floki told me."

I nodded gravely. "And Floki is right about that. What else?"

"They believe they'll go to heaven when they die, how stupid is that?" Siggy said, wringing her wrist around nervously. She rarely ever tried to get away from Thormund, what was going on? Were they fighting?

"They believe in a single god," I said as I kept my eyes on their arms, "and he had a son that was born from a virgin woman. He spread the word of his father, the Lord, and got arrested by people who didn't believe him. He was nailed to a cross and died. Christians believe that man died to pay for the sins of all who lived, and those who still had to be born. But it is uncommon for boys to be called Jesus, just like we wouldn't call a child Odin or Thor. The virgin that gave birth to him, however, is a commonly used name. My parents believed in this false god and named me after their Vessel's mother, who is called Maria. When I arrived here, I had nothing. I was taken to a Thing, where I saw Ragnar for the first time. I didn't speak the language, and I didn't know of the gods. I did know it was a bad idea to call myself Maria. Just imagine, a strange woman comes to Kattegat, and says she was named after the mother of the Christian savior. She doesn't understand the language or the customs. How would you have reacted?"

"I'd probably kill her," Thormund admitted. Siggy nodded, but Freydis kept silent and absorbed the information. Her gentle breath on my collarbone soothed me more than any warm shower could. 

"I told your father about it before we got married. Lagertha found out on her own. And then, when I was carrying you two, Bjorn and I decided to get married. We didn't want to wait until we got back, with all the rituals involved it would take too long. Your father barely survived a fall of the walls of Paris, and we were so happy and in love, we decided to get married according to my traditions. There wasn't any god present, I didn't want to have any Christian god there. I stopped believing in him long before I came here."

I smiled at the memories of that time. Nothing was ever going to stop us. "Lagertha was the one to marry us. We said our vows and exchanged rings. You see this one?" I pulled out the wedding ring I wore on a chain around my neck. "Bjorn and I got married first with these rings, just outside of Paris. We did it the right way after you two were born, but we actually got married twice."

"The whispers are true," Freydis spoke. I wasn't surprised she had caught those. Like I had done when I first came here, Freydis was good at hiding in the shadows. I still wasn't sure what kind of Sight she had, and if that was all there was to her gift.

"If someone knew about this, they could really hurt you, or dad," Thormund said. He knew more about our life and culture than I had at the time. He knew how the townsfolk would respond.

"And yet, Lagertha chose to keep it to herself. As I said, I owe her. She has known since Bjorn and I were married here, but she never used that information to make me do anything I didn't want to. Do you understand now why I didn't go against her?"

"I didn't realize there was so much at stake," Siggy said, keeping her eyes on the table. Her arm hung by her body, listlessly, as Thormund's were both on the table. 

"As you grow older, you will learn about many secrets. Knowledge like that can be used as a weapon if you know how to wield it. Lagertha knows this, just like your father and I do. We know how to pick our battles. Especially being a woman, Siggy, and Freydis, you will be underestimated a lot. And I say, let them. The more you learn about someone's weakness, the more damage you can do to them. I always ask myself, what could someone gain from doing what they do? What will they do anything for? Lagertha knows my secrets, and my weaknesses, as I know hers. My marriage to your father, and you as our children, means we won't ever use the knowledge we have on each other. We know how to pick our battles, and how to ask one another what we want to know."

"That sounds like you have a lot of power," Thormund said. "I thought you could only use a bow, but if you can fight like that... Who needs weapons?"

"Fighting like that does use a weapon, just not one you see. It's right here," I said as I pointed to my head. "You need to train it, though, if you want to use it properly."

"Is that why you won't let us drink ale? So we can learn how to use it?" 

I smiled, happy to weave this into the narrative. "When you drink ale all the time, you stop it from growing. And the bigger your brain becomes, the better it becomes. It's just like making a sword, the more effort you put in, the more beautiful and deadly it becomes." Siggy and Thormund were suddenly wary of the small keg in the corner. 

"I want to know if you understand why I did what I did, so I want to hear you repeat everything I said back to me. Can you do that?" Siggy and Thormund started rattling off what I had told them, Freydis helping them clear up a few details. I corrected a few small mistakes, then I was satisfied. 

"What do we tell anyone else?" Thormund asked. 

"You will tell them the truth. You miss your grandma, but you're happy to have grangran closer. You weren't there when it happened. No one else needs to know more, and if they ask you can say you don't want to talk about it. If you don't know what to say, just act like you don't know. Because you don't know exactly what happened here, nor do I."

"What happened to grandma?" Thormund asked. This had to come out at some point. I was satisfied the children knew what had been going on, and now it was time to break their hearts. 

"Grangran killed her. She shot an arrow in her back." The twins acted less emotional than I thought. They had been training to kill for some years now, so I guessed the reality of people dying was not that hard to take in. Only Freydis wanted me to comfort her. 

"What if dad asks us?" Thormund wanted to know how to play the game, which I took to be a good sign. He understood a different set of rules applied now, and he wanted to know what they were. 

"I will tell your father what happened, you needn't worry about him, or Lagertha. I am putting a lot of trust in you, so try your best."

"We won't let you down, mom." Determined as they looked, I still had a heavy heart. The twins weren't used to playing the game, and though they now held a minor role in the background, I wasn't sure if I was ready to have them this unprepared, or involved at all.


	13. The Name of the Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 03-04-815

Lagertha formally asked me if I wanted to shoot an arrow at the boat that carried Aslaug's body, and after my tearful display, I couldn't refuse. I didn't feel the need to display my prowess with a bow, so I made sure to fumble a bit, hitting beside the mark. The dry straw depended on the other arrow to hit, and Torvi's shot was beautiful. The service was gorgeous, the boat loaded with gifts and trinkets. The twins had put in some clothes she had given them, and Freydis surprised everyone by laying a single white flower near her grandmother's heart. It reminded me of funerals in my time. 

As for myself, I left her with jewelry Bjorn had given me that Aslaug would have liked better. With Freydis in my arms to give her a view and the twins beside me, we watched as the boat floated off towards Folkfangr. We were about to head back home when Torvi approached me, telling me I was finally allowed to go visit the boys. She and Astrid would take care of the children while I went to see them, she assured me, making me wary of what I would find.

As I opened the door, the boys jumped up from the floor. They looked unharmed, mostly dirty and deprived of sleep. Most importantly, they were alive. Lagertha had kept her word, as I knew she would. With their arms around me, I could breathe so much easier.

"Ubbe, Sigurd... I am so sorry about your mother. Please tell me you two are not hurt." Sigurd shook his head, looking guilty. Before I could wonder about it Ubbe drew my attention with a hand on my face.

"We're fine, auntie. How are the children? No one told us anything, we couldn't see them from the shutters. How was the funeral?" 

"I took them to the range that day. After everything with Bjorn, and Siggy's outburst, I just wanted to spend some time with them. By the time we got back - I was just in time... She didn't suffer. Lagertha wasn't cruel." I lowered my eyes, not willing to admit how much joy it had brought me to see her killed. How much it hurt that her death had come so fast.

"Is it true she said our father is dead?" Ubbe asked. 

I knew there was a real chance he was dead by now, but this was news to me. "What? No, I - If that's true, I missed it. I wanted to make sure the children were safe, so I only saw the end. Did she have a vision?"

"We don't know," Sigurd sighed. "But I'm sure he's fine. Ragnar Lothbrok can't be killed." 

My heart sank. It was best to break the news to them easily. A promise to a dead man was not as important to me as the hearts of my boys. "Not unless he wants to," I said softly. I sat down on the shabby bed that stood at one end of the room. 

"What do you mean by that?" Sigurd demanded. He knew this was one of the few rare secrets I kept from him, and how big it must've been. He always knew, somehow. His anger was justified. "Do you know something we don't?"

"When he came back from Hedeby, I saw..." I scoffed. This wouldn't get any easier. "He hasn't been himself since he got back, you must have noticed. He might still have been strong, but I couldn't help but notice despair in him as well. He had bruises on his neck, like the ones you get when you..."

"He did not try to kill himself!" Sigurd shouted. "He would never do that to us!"

I had raised him better than to act like a petulant child, over uncertainties no less. "He tried to do it to himself," I snapped back. "Had he really cared about you, would he have stayed away for so long? I was one of the few people that knew he was leaving, and I knew why he did it. I tried to stop him, but he wouldn't listen. He was stubborn, just like you are, Sigurd. Even if you don't want to do it to yourself, there are plenty of ways to end your life." 

Sigurd sat down next to me, defeated as he realized my words were true. "We'll never see him again," Sigurd said, still dazed. "How long have you known?"

I took him in my arms, my head turning to see how Ubbe was taking the news. He was mostly shocked. "Since he came back from Hedeby, but I had my suspicions since he came back."

"Why didn't you tell us? We could've…"

"What, tried to stop him? You saw how desperate he was to get to England. He came back for himself, not for anyone else." Perhaps a bit to see Lagertha, and to see what had become of us… But that had not been the reason for him to come back. That was just a nice little bonus.

"Lagertha must have known," Ubbe said as he turned to the small hatch that served as a window. He was quick to dismiss the news about his father. "Did you tell her?" He stood so close to me, I had to look all the way up to see his eyes. "Did you help kill our mother?"

If only. I was complicit, but in no way responsible. Her blood had stuck to my arm, but Lagertha had taken her life. 

"I met with her, but only to ask me what Bjorn and I were planning on doing after Siggy's outburst." The lie came easy. I'd told Sigurd much the same after it had happened.

Ubbe wasn't as easily satisfied. "What are you keeping from us, auntie? There must have been more going on. Did you help her? Did she tell you things?" 

I looked away, not wanting to strain my neck any longer. This wasn't going as I'd planned, at all. The boys weren't thinking straight.

Sigurd grabbed me by my arms, forcing me to look at him. His grasp alone knocked the breath out of me. He'd never been aggressive with me. "What did she tell you?" he hissed. Now were doubting even me, the woman who had helped raise them since they were small. Worst of it was that their mistrust was rightly placed. It was the price I had to pay for my revenge.

"She didn't tell me shit," I spat back, tearing lose my arm. "I asked her if she knew Bjorn had been fucking Astrid. Siggy found out, and that's what made this whole shitstorm with Bjorn start in the first place."

"That fucking bitch," Ubbe said. He sank down to my level and took hold of my hands. Had I raised him to be this easily persuaded? Was he this eager to grasp at the first logical explanation? "I knew we couldn't trust her. She came in earlier, threatening us not to harm Lagertha." 

I was pretty sure Lagertha didn't know about Astrid's conversation with the boys. Her protégé had better not cause any trouble with the boys, or I'd have her skinned alive. Or maybe I could have her -

Ari was still around here somewhere. I could - I had to curb my enthusiasm. "You have to be careful," I pleaded. "You boys are strongest when you are together, and with Ivar maybe not making it back, and Hvitserk gone..."

"You want us to wait for Bjorn to come back? I'd rather face Lagertha and Astrid than face Bjorn," Ubbe sneered as if I was responsible for those skewed odds. He was only judging their strength, not their strategic prowess. 

"Getting revenge for your mother won't bring her back, and I've already lost too many people I care about this summer. Whatever you do, don't do it out of anger. Don't make me say farewell to you, too."

"Don't get so emotional, auntie. Trying to win me over with your tears is beneath you." 

I gazed up in surprise, Ubbe had never been so cruel before. He still had his suspicions on my intentions, and I had to shut those down. Now. 

"Do you think this is some kind of game? Do you think I would use you as pawns to further my own agenda? If I even had an endgame, it'd be to grow old and have as many of you around for as long as I can, outliving all of you until I die of old age. I don't want to be queen after Lagertha. I don't want to win fame and glory in raids. I want to be happy, and the two of you are a big part of that happiness. Your father once told me I had to learn when to play the game, and when not to. You don't play it against those you love. Maybe you should learn that as well." 

Of course, Ragnar had been talking bullshit. It might have been true for simple families, but this one where Lagertha had killed Aslaug, brothers wanted to kill each other, all bets were off. I didn't even feel bad for lying to Ubbe and Sigurd. If it kept them safe, I'd be able to sleep at night. 

"I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't doubt you," Ubbe sighed, his eyes downcast. He felt properly shamed, as well he should. "Aslaug meant a lot to you as well." 

I smiled at that. "I know you've been through a lot lately. It's normal to want to lash out. Just don't take it out on the people around you." 

Ubbe sat down, rubbing his eyes. He looked tired. 

"There is one thing I'm wondering about, though..." I looked both at Sigurd and Ubbe, catching their eyes. "How did Lagertha manage to capture you? You wouldn't take it lying down, but you're both unhurt." Now it was the boys' turn to look away. 

This could not be happening! I stood up and faced them, ready to give them a scolding that would last them a lifetime.

"You are fucking imbeciles!" I shouted, exasperated. "I told you, nothing good will come of that girl. Did you really think she'd choose love over loyalty to her master? That is the way slaves survive!" Without meaning to, I'd used the dirty word I always tried to avoid. I couldn't help it, though. Memories of how I was treated during my first year here ripped open some very old wounds. 

"If you ask her to fuck you, she will. If you ask her to pour you a drink, she will. And if she is asked to fool a son of Ragnar for the promise of a better life, she sure as damn will! Just because you can make her do what you want doesn't mean she only listens to you! Fucking hormonal pieces of shit!" Both had the decency to look properly ashamed. "Anyone could tell what she wants more than anything. And that is how you can make them do what you want. Did I not teach you about the balance of power! I'll strangle Ivar as soon as he makes it back!" 

Ivar's behavior around women had always been deplorable in my eyes, but he needed it as a way to assert his dominance. And unwittingly, it had led to his brothers being captured so easily. Had he not hurt Margrethe the way he did, she might not have been so quick to betray Ubbe and Sigurd.

Sigurd looked pitiful. "She - she told us she loved us both..." He was so hopelessly in love. I wanted to keep shouting, but the girl was his first love. I'd been stupid back then, as well. I shuddered as I sighed, forcing down the anger boiling inside of me. Tom had no place in this world.

"And you fell for it, hook line and sinker. Lagertha knew and played on your weakness." I didn't want to say it outright, but they had just as much a part in their mother's death as I had.

"What would you know about it?" Ubbe said, just as annoyed as me. "When was the last time someone tried to play on your feelings?" 

I snorted. He did not want to go there with me. Not now. "About a moon ago, if you must know. Bjorn pretended to want to rape me."

The boys both sat down again, not knowing how to comfort me for something that lay far behind me.

I took their hands in mine. They held on for dear life. They knew what it could've meant for me. "After I talked to the children about what a divorce would mean for them, Bjorn thought I pitted them against him. He wanted to make sure I knew he could hurt me. I let the children believe we had sex that day."

"And you can still love him, after that? Look him in the eye?" Sigurd asked. 

I got up and jerked my hands free. "I saw it for what it was, a foolish act of desperation. I know that man better than he knows himself. He'd never hurt me like that." 

Ubbe sighed, standing up and walking around for a bit. "How is it you can move past something like that with such ease?"

I faced them and got my shit together. They weren't going to deter me from my plan. "Just like the twins, I tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear. I could suck up to you and tell you how brave it would be to avenge Aslaug, but that's what most of the town will tell you. I'd rather tell you why you don't need to so you can see the bigger picture. You don't have to listen, but at least think about it rationally before you act. Don't let your emotions get in the way. They can get you killed." 

I bit my lip after those words, realizing I'd never told them something like that before. I always encouraged showing emotions, talking about them. But before, they weren't planning on overthrowing Lagertha. I sighed deeply, realizing I needed to show them how much I cared about them. I wanted to comfort them, knowing it'd comfort me as well. They just lost their mother, they didn't need a scolding from their aunt, either. 

"Look, I'm sorry I'm being so hard on you. All I want is for the two of you to be safe. I want you to know that all I'm doing now, it's all to keep you safe. I want to protect you, and I want to make sure you survive. I only ask of you to think this through. I loved your mother. What she did for me - I cannot put words to it." After all, she was the one that asked the gods to bring me here. She was the reason I wasn't lying dead in some forest not too far from here, some 1200 years in the future. "But you can't get her back. And even if you succeed in your revenge, what then? Bjorn will want to have his revenge and kill one of you. There's no end to any of this. We can't be at each other's throats with so many other threats at our doorstep."

"What other threats?" Sigurd asked. That was not the part I'd hoped he remembered. 

"Open your eyes," Ubbe said. "Auntie may not have played an active part in all of this, but she sure as hell knows what's going on. Have you never wondered why she always spends so much time at the market? She has a vast network of informants who bring her news whenever they come here." I raised an eyebrow at that. Ubbe seemed to know more about how I played the game than I thought. I had to be more careful with the details I let slip. 

"Auntie, is that true?" Sigurd seemed to see me for the first time. 

"It is," I said, not seeing the sense in trying to hide it now. "That's how I get most of my information from around the country, and beyond. It costs a lot to keep it up, but it's how I ‘just know' about so many things. Kattegat has become the envy of Norway. Many hungry eyes look at us and want to have a piece of it. We're terribly poorly defended, and I'm sure it's not a matter of if, but when we'll be under attack. I'm sure you'll hear Lagertha propose a plan to build defenses shortly. I can't say I disagree. And of course, there's still Harald and Halfdan."

Ubbe's mouth wrinkled up. "Why didn't you say something before?"

"I did. Your mother and Bjorn thought I was being paranoid. They think we're safe enough for the time being, but you saw yourself how easy it was for Lagertha to take over. And she was being gentle because she wants to rule here. If someone who just wants to raid us comes by..."

"It'd be a massacre," Ubbe finished my thought. 

"As I said, I want the people close to me to be safe. I don't want to wake up to the sounds of people dying and have to wonder if we'll live another day. There's a reason I don't go raiding. But I should go, I have to start dinner. I'll try and talk Lagertha into giving you some freedom, at least to get out of this room."

"Thank you, auntie." 

I left the boys to their thoughts, knowing I had done all I could.


	14. Ari's Fate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-04-815

Ari sat shackled to the wall with his hands held up. After two weeks of , not bothered by the raw, bloody skin on his wrists anymore. His head hung low, and he didn't bother looking up when I came in.

"I thought I might run into you here," I said. 

Ari scoffed and stretched out his back. "I'm sorry about the locale, you must be disappointed to find me chained up. It's not like I did anything to warrant an arrest," he bit. 

I pulled up a bench and let him sit on it. He let out a relieved sigh as he stretched his legs, too. "As you may have guessed, Aslaug wasn't too fond of your father. But now we have a new queen, and she happens to have history with your brother." 

He kept staring, not showing a hint of remorse or sadness. I didn't understand. Back when Erlendur had died, I had convinced myself that he'd lost his mind, but after Ari had returned, I wasn't so certain of that anymore. Erlendur had warned me about my brother, saying I didn't know him at all. That he was a danger to me, beyond anything he had ever seen or heard about. He'd been so afraid, it might've been about more than Jozef wanting to kill Ragnar and his sons. 

Ari coming back here must've been another sign of the gods. Something big was coming, something terrible. My brother wouldn't come back anytime soon, not after I poisoned him and burned his body, but the people he worked with could. Harald wasn't involved, but that only worried me more. I hated not knowing who I was up against. 

I hated feeling vulnerable. "How is it you know of Ivar, but not how your brother died?" Rumors about what had happened in the forest had gone rampant, then had only gotten worse after news got out I was with child. 

Ari shrugged. "Eh. I know Bjorn killed him. I just don't care. Erlendur was a twat, and I imagine Odin rejoiced when he got sent to Helheim."

I blinked. This was the first time Ari reminded me of his brother in any way. "You brother was caught in a seidr. He wasn't to blame as much as you might think." It must have been. But who had cast it? And why? What could they gain from having Erlendur flip his shit over my Christian brother?

He cared so little that I shifted around on my legs, not knowing what to do with my arms. I had to try a different angle. "How did you find out about Ivar? You left before he was born."

"I ran into some of my father's men the year after I left. I craved news from back home, and then I heard my whole family had been slaughtered, by the Lothbroks. Of course I asked for the dirt people had on you. For years I was convinced you sent me off to die on foreign soil, and, well..." He glanced up, flopping his hands around. His manacles rattled.

"Then I have good news for you," I said, trying to hide a fake smile. "Lagertha is not Aslaug. She asked me to bring you the good news. You are free to settle wherever you choose if you help her with a delicate problem she ran into while she took over."

"A test? I thought I had to wait for a Lawmaker to come here."

I shifted my stance again, crossing my arms in front of my chest. "We're not too fond of those, around here. We had a corrupt one who caused quite the chaos a few years back." I brushed over my stomach as I let my arms down again, seeing how Ari caught it. Now he had the proper motivation, he was more than willing to pick up the crumbs I left him. 

"And what delicate situation would I be helping the queen with?" he asked, his eyes returning to mine. 

"Trials like these rarely leave people satisfied. Especially when it concerns someone of influence. She needs you to take care of one woman we know is guilty, but many in town owe her. You met her, when I brought you to Aslaug." Ari took a deep breath and sized me up.

"You want me to take out the healer." Murder. The word echoed through his head.

"Justice, and it's for Lagertha, not me," I stressed. "She conspired with that Lawmaker I mentioned earlier. They sold outcomes, swayed favor, went against the gods. For that, she needs to die. The gods demand it." 

"What if I refuse?" He asked.

"Then you will never set foot in Norway or Denmark again."

Ari cast his gaze up to the roof. "Where does the old bat live?" He already talked himself into how justified he would be to kill her; just a small price to pay for his freedom. It was as good a sign as I could expect.

"I got you something to eat," I said as I pulled my bag onto my lap. "It's this wonderful bread with herbs in it. I'm sure you'll find it to your liking." I handed over the loaf. "She has a lovely house that overlooks the Fjord, third left from the hillside. Of course, I have to tell Lagertha you said yes first, so we will free you tomorrow afternoon. It's a bit of a shame that you'll miss the ship headed for Hedeby tomorrow morning, it leaves at the crack of dawn... And it has room for one more passenger." I stared at him intently.

"Yes... That would be a shame, I imagine I can't stay here after my... Penance."

"Lagertha will protect you, but you understand this must be kept a secret as much as possible. I do hope you like the bread, I spent years perfecting the recipe."

"Thank you," he said as he stared at the bread. "You don't happen to have a serving of lutefisk to go with it, do you?"

"You, Ari, are disgusting. Lutefisk is not food. It's an abomination that was made to kill Viking, not feed them. I have to get going, but I trust that you will be safe."

"Yes, thank you. My faith in you was not misplaced. I owe you, for everything."

"Serving Lagertha's needs is payment enough." I left with a smile, letting him have his bench. I heard him mutter softly as he bit into the bread, no doubt figuring out why the bread was so special.

It only seemed natural, fitting even, to have someone else take out my last target. Ari would kill Vinh, and then he would get executed for murder. All the loose ends would be tied up, and my hands remained clean. Closure without consequences, as I had always wanted it to be. Logic over bloodlust. I had more to live for than revenge; I couldn't risk doing it myself and getting caught.

In the hall, Lagertha worked on her weaving. She was almost done, and sat on a stool to force the last few strands in place.

"If you're here about the boys, I will hear none of it," she said without even looking up. 

"Oh, no, not just now. I wanted to let you know I just went to visit Ari." Her frown deepened, revealing the lines in her face. She had aged, though it rarely showed.

"Ari?"

"Horiksson," I clarified. "He is in a cell, waiting for Aslaug's judgement." She turned around, leaving the strands for what they were. Her face reminded me why I had been scared of her when we just met. She knew I'd kept this from her for close to two weeks, but she didn't know why.

"Oh, and let me guess. He asked you to speak on his behalf?"

"He wants to know if he'll get a fair judgement. Aslaug didn't charge him, after all."

Lagertha's eyes narrowed. She had been the one to teach me how the gods frowned upon such abuse of power. "No one mentioned that he was here..."

"Only a handful of people knew. Aslaug, as well as the boys and Vinh. Maybe a few guards knew, but they never got a full name. And now, you know."

Lagertha got to her feet, drawing curious eyes our way. She was pissed over being forced into this discussion, being forced to deal with this situation. "And how did he just stroll in here?"

I straightened my back. "He came to my doorstep one night. He wanted help finding a farm and a wife."

"Hmm." 

I refused to blink, or bite my lip. She would know something was up. "He made the right decision coming here first. He wants to do this right, and you have to remember that he didn't have anything to do with Paris or Hedeby."

Lagertha scoffed. I won. "He will cause trouble, and I have enough headaches waiting to happen. I'll deal with him in the morning."

"You'll kill him? What has he done to you?" The people around us started to cast us furtive glances. They were listening, which was enough.

"Ragnhild, don't test me on this. I will rule Kattegat the way I see fit, and you will obey me. I am your queen, now." When Aslaug had been alive I had ruled about as much as her, but now I held no power as a leader anymore. I had plenty of influence, but in all I had taken a step down the ladder. I didn't know how to feel about that, yet.

I lowered my head. "As you command, my queen. Just know that Ari is getting restless. He wants to know what's going on, and I think that's more than fair." 

I went back home and made sure the children were in bed before I did anything else. I pretended to read a book by the fire, but my eyes didn't catch any of the words. I was left leafing through the book to look at the pictures.

It didn't work. Tonight, my revenge would be complete. I had imagined killing Vinh so many times already, but now it was out of my hands. Now I had to wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the short update this week. I wanted to work on the rest of this update yesterday, but my town was shook up by a possible terrorist attack. The city was asked to remain inside while conflicting information circulated during the search for the perpetrator. He was caught nearly 8 hours after the incident. Though at this point it is not likely to have been an act of terror, people died and got injured, and it all happened close to my house, in an area I am very familiar with. None of my loved ones was directly involved in the shooting or the susequent events. I'm not afraid of new attacks happening any time soon, but I am rattled and need a day or two to let go of the tension this has caused. If anything, I worry over the elections tomorrow and the future of our country as a result of this situation.
> 
> Life goes on and I will not let these events dictate what I feel and what I do. This week's update is shorter than usual, but I'm sticking to my schedule as best I can. 
> 
> P.s. There was apparently a glitch with the comments this past week. If you sent a comment and I haven't responded to it, it's because I haven't seen it (yet).


	15. Should I Laugh or Cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 06-04-815

I tried to sleep, but I kept waking up. My ears caught every sound coming from outside. I didn't want to miss a thing, even though I knew it was best to steer clear for the first few minutes. The town would revolt against the one who killed Vinh, the woman who had helped birth them and their children. They would hate Ari, especially if he were to get caught red handed.

If she were asleep, Ari might just stab her or slice her throat. I would have gone with strangulation myself. Or tie her up, then replicate all the scars she had given me. I would get drenched in blood, feel it seep through my fingers and drain my dress. I'd enjoy every second of it, watching the life fade from her eyes, the look of horror on her face. She would not go quietly.

With my legs slung over the edge of the bed, I looked down at my feet. Maybe... Would I be able to see my feet when I stood up straight in eight months time? I wasn't sure. I had to wait, just a bit longer, then I'd know for sure. No need to get panicked yet. And if it were true, it would guide me towards England, danger, and possibly my happiness. I'd have to try, if only for the child. I wouldn't let it be a bastard from the start, without even trying.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the muscles in my back pull on my spine. The way my back felt, I was sixty years old. The stress was getting to me. I was so close to completing my revenge. My bloodlust would soon be gone. I wouldn't have to worry about the urge to kill those around me anymore. So close. Just a few more hours. 

A walk would do me some good. I could use the fresh air. The flames of the dimming fire were suffocating me already. I needed to get my mind off of things. 

In the deserted streets I breathed in deep again. The crisp air reminded me why we only knew two seasons. The winter still held a firm grasp over the town, lasting longer than the last few. Summer would be either short, or last well into September. I turned into some alleys. Maybe I could overhear some juicy gossip to take my mind off the morning.

Ari could have slaughtered Vinh by now. If I were him I'd strike right after midnight, then clean myself up. The fjord was so close, it was perfect to rinse off blood. Then, I'd wait for the town to awaken and find the ship to take me away.

Except there wasn't a ship headed for Hedeby. No ship would leave until the afternoon tide, and Ari would panic. Vinh was sure to be found before that time, and then... Who made a better suspect than the escaped prisoner? The one eager to leave town in a rush?

It was perfect. The town knew I cared for Ari, I had plenty of witnesses after my visit to Lagertha last night. No one would believe the foreigner over me, when none of his story would make sense. If he refused to kill Vinh after all, he was still trapped in the town and Lagertha would kill him anyway. 

The only one who would realize something was up was Lagertha, who knew I wanted Vinh dead. She would know that I was able to cross her, and I was not as complacent as she thought. She was queen, yes, but I could kill with a whisper. 

As time crawled by, I grew restless. I'd gone too close to the beach for comfort when the sounds of a loud struggle echoed through town, waking up too many people at once. Vinh shrieked. Ari shouted back, his words incomprehensible. People shouted from inside their houses, cursing as they realized the sun was barely rising. I ran off towards home, but stopped as I hit the main street. If anyone saw me running away now, they would become suspicious. 

The shouting near the beach kept on. I had to go somewhere. Moving towards the hall wouldn't be suspicious. I could pretend to fetch Lagertha. Before I completed the thought, my feet started to move. First towards the main entry, then towards the alley beneath it, where the goat pen was. 

Ari had waited until dawn to strike. I got there after he was already dragged off, as I'd hoped. A row of people stood at the door, trying to peek inside through the slats that formed the walls. A shieldmaiden moved aside so I could enter. Numerous eyes glanced back at me as I took them in, trying to keep the door closed as much as I could. It got pushed shut from outside, the butt of a spear sounding dull as it struck the ground. My eyes needed to adjust to the near darkness.

Lagertha stood hunched over the bed, the curtains before it torn off. Her hair was still braided up for sleep and her dress simple. "How is it you always misjudge the sons of Horik?" she asked without looking up. "Ari escaped and tried to kill Vinh." 

Tried to?

Vinh kept her house clean as she could, but most of her dustless stuff now lay strewn across the floor. Bottles of oil with steeping herbs had falled to the ground, the glass broken. I wouldn't have minded to take some of that glasswork for myself. Even the fire had been smothered during the struggle, a handful of ashes thrown around.

I gathered up my courage. "Does she live?"

Lagertha looked up, showing no pity for anyone. "What do you care?"

"I may have hated her, but I didn't want her to die. There's so much blood..." I glanced around, seeing a pool of blood in the bed, spatters going up all the way to the ceiling. Another bloody trail went from the bed to beyond a curtain. She cooked there, I remembered. Ari had fucked up, probably lost a lot of blood himself. This was too much to be from one person to still be alive.

"She bled out," Lagertha said. I caught her eyes. "Ari isn't faring much better. He has a huge gash on his chest." 

That woman had always sucked at finding arteries, even when she tried to kill someone on purpose. Her knives were sharp, though. The scars had gone, but I could still recall the bite of steel on my thighs. "I could take a look at him. Where is she?" 

"Don't bother. You saw the crowd outside, he's dead already. Vinh's over there." Lagertha nodded towards the kitchen. 

I held my breath, fingers aching to pull back the curtain. 

Vinh looked marvelous. Her nightgown was torn and drenched in blood, her eyes were dead to the world and stared up, her face covered in strands of grey hair and blood. And best of all, carved in her bared chest, were the runes for traitor.

I fell to my knees, folding my hands in front of my mouth. I had to keep from laughing out of sheer joy. Vinh, she was dead. She was gone, and what a way to go... I would have been hard-pressed to do it better myself. Ari had truly outdone himself. I almost felt guilty for framing him in the process. Then the joy overtook again, forcing a choked gasp out of my lungs.

An arm pulled me up. I pushed on the happiness, but it was too much. Kol, my baby... He was avenged. He could finally rest, knowing I had taken care of it. Ten long years...

"Torvi," I choked out. "I need to be alone." 

She leaned in and held me close, then whispered so softly barely any air moved. "I know what she did to you. You don't have to hide it from me." Had Lagertha spilled the beans? No, she wouldn't have. It came too close to her own secrets. 

"I'll be fine. I just need a place no one can hear me."

"Then let me walk you there." She opened the door and ushered me away from the gathering crowd. It had grown since I entered, and more people were headed our way. I held my breath to hide my quivering breath. We walked past the water, and through the tears of relief, a maniacal laugh tried to take over my lips. I hid it as best I could, keeping my mouth covered, at least until we were off somewhere no one could hear.

"Vessel," Vinh's voice echoed in my ears. "I'll be done in no time... I've done this countless times before..."

A nerve in my thigh spasmed. There had been a scare there, once upon a time. After Freydis' birth, they all had gone. Looking in her eyes, feeling my love for that tiny girl warm my heart, crying for the son that never got to feel my embrace, I had healed inside and out. But I hadn't forgotten. The fear of losing a child was still deep within me, and pushing to the surface more as days went by without a drop of blood on my underwear. 

Torvi left me at the other side of the beach, where a few shrubs and the nearby Law Rock provided some privacy. As she moved out of sight I smiled, chuckled, felt my heart overflow with joy. I lay down on the sand, looking up at the bright morning sky and laughed. 

The image of Vinh lying dead came up again, and I imagined how she must have struggled when Ari cut into her skin. I could almost see it when I closed my eyes.

"Vessel! I knew you would come after me! You will not succeed!"

"Shut up you old hag," I hissed, carving another rune in her skin.

"Aah! You bitch! I knew you were evil!" 

I punched her in the face, then completed the rune. She tried to get me off of her, but I held her down. "You took my fertility. You carved me up, like a piece of meat. You are the one that killed my son. There isn't even a word for you. You're worse than a killer, worse than a traitor, and worse than a quack. You have no idea how much joy it gives me, to be the one to slice your throat..."

I laughed through the tears that fell, and the weight that disappeared from my shoulders. With my eyes closed I imagined my little cabbage, smiling at me, looking as if he had aged with me.

"Now I can rest," he said. Kol sounded like Sigurd had when he was younger. "I love you, mommy."

"I love you, too, my little cabbage. I love you so much." My eyes stung with hot tears that were forced through my lashes. The tears ran down my face, towards my ears. My breath came out in sobs, my laugh fading into a painful, wry sorrow. "I can't wait to meet you... You have so many brothers and sisters to get to know as well, and uncles, and other people who love you." My hands found my stomach. It had all ended, but what if a new grueling journey was about to begin? What if my child would die as Kol had? 

"Auntie?" Ubbe stood a few feet away, Sigurd beside him. The distance between us felt strange. 

I sat up, wiping the tears from my face. "She let you out?" I jumped up and wrapped my arms around them both, feeling their warmth. I smiled, looking up at their faces. This day was the best in a long while, even better than seeing Aslaug killed. "I thought it would be a while longer."

Sigurd brushed a thumb over my face, wiping away another tear. "Torvi told us where to find you. She said you needed us. Why were you crying?"

Lagertha had kept her mouth about the revenge I had wanted to complete. Otherwise Torvi would've told the boys so they knew how to comfort me. No one knew about my joy. I was safe. It had all gone according to plan. I still had it. "It's nothing. Not compared to having you out in the sun again. Are you hungry? I'll make us all some breakfast, I'm sure the twins are up by now, as well."

"Auntie," Sigurd said as if to chide me. He stopped walking. "What happened?"

I stared up in surprise. "Lagertha will take care of it. She made it abundantly clear that I'm no longer involved with ruling Kattegat. She knows where to find me if that changes. Now will you let me take care of you?" I tried to pull them along, but they stood motionless. I rolled my eyes as I sighed."Ari escaped his cell and then decided to kill Vinh. He's been apprehended."

Ubbe looked genuinely confused. "Vinh died? Why would he go after her?" He asked questions I didn't want answered. I just wanted to make the boys breakfast, have them enjoy themselves before they would hear about their father's death.

"Who knows? She was there when Aslaug had him arrested; she didn't exactly speak up for him."

"You don't sound that surprised," Ubbe said as he let me guide him towards my house. With both of them by my side, arms locked to keep them from straying, the world felt right again.

"I can't refute that he was caught red-handed. I'm disappointed, but not surprised. He was furious about being kept without a charge when I came by yesterday."

"If you say so... I imagine Lagertha will kill him for this?" Ubbe asked.

"The Law demands it," I stressed. "Your mother used to leave it to Bjorn, but Lagertha is a warrior. And it's a poor ruler that keeps a headsman, for they will soon forget the value of life."

"Are you saying our mother was too fond of death as a punishment?" Sigurd asked. 

I glanced up at him, not knowing what to make of his comment. His tone didn't betray a thing. "I'm saying Lagertha will do what needs to be done. You grieve for your mother, as do I, but life goes on. I learned that lesson the hard way." 

We fell silent as we passed by the cells, where Ari was shouting for justice.

"Lagertha said she would protect me! There was supposed to be a ship setting sail for Hedeby, come the break of dawn! Ragnhild told me I had to kill Vinh to gain my freedom!" 

I froze as Sigurd turned his head.

"I swear, I knew he was crazy," Ubbe said with a tired sigh. "Why would he even try and blame this on you, auntie? If anyone tried to help him, it was you."

"I dont know," I sighed. "Sometimes people expect me to perform miracles, and then get mad at me for refusing them. I told him he should plead with the Thing to have his case brought to a Lawgiver, and he lost it. I was hoping he would calm down after some time, but this..." 

Sigurd bumped into my shoulder, nodding towards my house. WIth a smile on my face I followed, happy to have the boys out in the free air again.


	16. Thirty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12-04-815

Lagertha came up to me in such a hurry I didn't want to know what it was all about. I had my own things to worry about. The math checked out. Thirty-seven. I'd checked it thrice.

I should've done this at home; I was in no state to have people around me. By Odin, I hated myself and my customs. Why'd I have to come into the hall and have a drink? Why had I given into that desire, only to discover I couldn't drink at all? The ale didn't even taste that great, and having a long day behind me didn't mean I could drink to forget about my worries. 

"Ragnhild. I need to speak to you." Lagertha looked rushed, her hair not nearly as neat as it was on all the other days. She looked desperate, as if she'd been looking for me for a while.

I kept my eyes on the horn. It made the ale seem a dark, muddy brown. There was no way I'd finish this drink. "I'm a bit preoccupied. If it can wait -" 

"Ragnar died. I saw him last night." 

Closing my eyes, I sighed. A cold tingle spread from my heart to the rest of my body. She wouldn't let go of this; she needed to talk about what this meant for her and how the boys would respond. Part of them clung to the legends surrounding their father. He'd somehow charmed his way back into their hearts as the good stories about Ragnar resurfaced when men were in their cups. It was easier to cling to hope; I felt that more than anyone. Thirty-seven. 

Lagertha joined me before I could tell her to sodd off, taking my hand in hers. I kept facing my cup, wanting to find a different number to the math at the bottom. I wanted to go home and cry before the twins came home, drown in my own sorrows. 

I should've bled twice over, now. "How did he look?" I asked, wearing a thin smile. I forced my hands to stay above the table, though they were itching to hold onto my stomach. Thirty-seven. 

She didn't notice. Her eyes were filled with hope and sparks, enough to blur out my desperation. "He was as he used to be, when he was still mine. How can that be? The gods have sent him to me, to tell me he made it to Valhalla." She must have been dreaming. Everyone knew there was no returning from Folkfangr. "He was strong, and fearsome. I barely saw his face, but he was there, in my chambers. I was so afraid he wouldn't make it up there, but he did... I should offer a sacrifice to the gods, to thank them." She already seemed comforted, but there were some things she needed to know. 

"Lagertha, wait." She pauzed halfway up, sinking down as she saw the look on my face. "If he has truly died... You know Ragnar has made sure the boy gets back home. And when he does, he'll manage to convince Ubbe to try and get revenge on you." 

Lagertha's hold wasn't as tenuous as Ubbe wanted to believe, but the boys keeping still spoke of their quiet acceptance. Ivar was the wildcard. Hvitserk would get home when Bjorn did. Then their window had closed. I knew how much they all looked up to their brother, despite the hurt he caused me. He was the closest they had to a father, and until Ragnar made his way back I hadn't wanted to show them just how bad it all had gotten.

"Not until they find out," Lagertha said with a determination that reminded me of Ragnar. "You have to keep this to yourself." Her eyes told me of the worry she felt, over Astrid finding out how much Ragnar still meant to her, about the boys lashing out and killing her. 

It was my turn to get up now, and I'd be damned if she would hold me back. "Oh, no. No, I refuse. I won't let you put me in such a position, not with the boys barely trusting me as it is. You can't ask me to keep it hidden from them. I refuse." 

Lagertha reached out a hand. "Ragnhild."

"No, this is where I draw the line. I will not be a pawn in your plans, not again. I don't care what you know about me or my past, I have had it!" I banged a fist on the table and walked off, not bothering to hide a thing from the other people in the hall. I had my own sorrows to drown. 

On my way back home I ran into Ubbe, but I didn't want to stop for a chat. When he tried to grab my arm I twisted out of his grip, much to his surprise. 

"Auntie, please." His voice told me he didn't want to sound like a beggar, but his grip was shaky at best. As much as I wanted to be there for him, I had my own worries to deal with. I could already see the front door, if I'd gotten away from Lagertha sooner...

"Please Ubbe, not now. Not today." Thirty-seven days. No sign of bleeding anytime, soon. The familiar slight swell below my abdomen wasn't there. My lower back didn't hurt as much. My tendency to clean up extra rigorously was missing, too. I wouldn't get my period any time soon. 

Ubbe let go of me, allowing me to walk the last few meters, but he followed, walking so close to me he could whisper. "Do you know?"

I felt my face twisting and turning, unable to keep it in much longer. "I know too much, Ubbe. Please, I need..." Ubbe stopped hovering over my shoulder, guiding me back home instead. It felt like he was hiding me away, and with Bjorn gone again, I remembered how he used to take care of me when Bjorn had gone off to the Interior. 

Inside, I tore off my cloak, pulled out the braids I had put in my hair this morning to keep myself occupied as I tried to convince myself it wasn't so. My breathing grew so ragged I needed to get out of my dress as well. Bjorn had almost raped me five weeks and two days ago. Thirty-seven days. It was too much. It was supposed to be impossible. He hadn't even entered. 

Just like Freydis' birth hadn't been possible.

I disappeared behind the screen that kept my bed from sight, needing to change into something more comfortable. I needed to breathe, then get Ubbe out. I needed to be alone. 

"Did he come by you as well?" Ubbe asked. "Auntie? Did you see him?" 

"How did he look?" I asked. Had he dreamt of his father as well?

"More ragged than I imagined. No right eye, markings on his face. They seemed as clear as yours." One eye? Face markings? He wasn't talking about Ragnar. I glanced past the curtain, seeing Ubbe looked lost in thought. I slipped back before he caught me staring. 

I needed to feel normal for a moment, like I could find my way out of this mess with logic. On the bottom of the furthest chest was the clothing I had made that resembled what I would wear in the future. A baggy pants made of soft linnen, a top that left my shoulders bare, and a knitted sweater with a hole where my left elbow was. I'd been too lazy to go back and fix it when I discovered it.

"Are you okay?" Ubbe asked as the door opened. "Auntie?" 

"Just... I need a moment," I said, sounding like a wreck. Ubbe didn't seem worried over who had come in, so it didn't really matter. I already leaked tears, there would be no stopping this any time soon. As soon as I stepped away from the screen Sigurd held me in his arms. 

"I knew you would know already," he whispered as he clung to my sweater. "Odin wouldn't dream of not sharing his last words with you, too." 

Sigurd had never been this wrong about my sadness, but his words were enough to make me cry out loud. The gods were cruel, they were vicious, they were beyond reason. They had made sure I would get pregnant, they forced me to decide on the fate of my child before I even had the chance to adapt to the news. Ragnar's last advice to me rang through my head like a bell tolling, heralding doom and despair. Finding it all out on the same day, Ivar's birthday no less, it was too much of a coincidence. The gods meant for me to join the raid that would follow. 

I was terrified. 

How often had I begged them to get it over with and make my destiny known? Was this because I'd cursed Odin back in Uppsala? Then Thor must've heard me, begging to keep my children safe, all of them.

Sigurd walked me to the table, where Ubbe was already waiting with a mug of tea for us. I hadn't realized I'd taken that long to get dressed.

"Sometimes I forget how deeply you feel things," Ubbe said as he joined by my other side, putting a hand on my leg. "It's been so long since I saw you cry." 

"There's just so much history," I whispered, feeling Sigurd pull me even closer. I used to hold him like that, when he was young. Sobbing, I let myself fall in his embrace, leaning on him with all that I was. He'd never let me down "How can I not - " Was it mourning? Did I fear what this child would come to mean to me? What it might do to me if it died? 

Ubbe leaned into me, too. I put up an arm to keep him close to me as well. Ubbe would understand, he'd been there for me time and time again. That time Freydis had a terrible ear infection and couldn't sleep without being curled up against me, he had taken care of the twins for me. Then when Bjorn had moved out, he even offered to stay home during the raids to help out. That had been the end of his raiding spree. All of them had stayed here since, Hvitserk was the first to leave me in quite a while. 

"We have to avenge him," Ubbe said. It was a dagger to the kidney, slowly bleeding me dry as the words sank in. "We have to kill Aelle." 

"Like you want to kill Lagertha?" Sigurd asked sharply. It made me look up, seeing he wasn't emotional in the slightest. Ubbe wasn't crying, either. They were angry, most of all. I wiped off my tears, even though they kept pouring out.

"I don't want you to go," I whispered, sitting up straight. I couldn't let them make a foolish decision because I didn't feel up to the task of lecturing them. "There's no sense in getting revenge, you should live for yourselves. Don't go saving his legacy when there was nothing left to save. You saw what became of him." 

"You can't be serious. Auntie..." 

"What's going on?" Sigurd asked. He felt the shiver that went through my spine. Had he noticed my fear? "You're not telling us all there is. What are you hiding?" 

"I'm..." I had to tell them at least a part of the truth to have them swallow it. I couldn't tell them I was pregnant, or they would keep me from coming along. For so many years I had begged the gods for a sign, and this... If this wasn't it, I'd never expect it to come again. "I don't want things to change. I built my life around you, all of you. Don't throw your lives away for something that should've stayed in the past."

"Don't you mean someone?" Ubbe asked, leaning back, face turning red. "If you didn't want things to change you shouldn't have let Lagertha kill our mother. You shouldn't have told us the good things about our father, you should've done more to keep him from doing what he did." He got up and left, leaving me alone with his brother. I didn't have the energy to feign disappointment. What I felt was despair.

"You said you were fighting the day he left," Sigurd said softly, taking a little distance as well. How was I turning them against me by wanting to keep them safe and sound? Didn't they realize this was what it meant to be a parent? "Mom, what is this really about?"

"I regret so much," I sobbed, covering my mouth as I let him hold me again. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to let it get this far. Sigurd..." 

"You did what you could. We're all to blame. No one knew what to do, and you did what you could based on the information you had. You did everything you had to and more." 

I shook my head, but I didn't dare say the words out loud. Even from Sigurd I kept my secrets, even he didn't know all there was to my heart. He was half my age, he shouldn't be worried about my every fear. "You don't understand. There's so much you don't know yet." 

"And I'll ask you all about it once you're feeling better, but for now you can just let it be. It's okay to feel confused and cry. I'm here for you." Would he still mean that when there were dirty diapers involved, and lots of sleepless nights? 

I clutched at his shirt, wanting to bury my sorrow in his chest. Sigurd was always here for me, even though he was only sixteen. The boys were all so much more mature than I ever would have guessed, even though they didn't match their brother. Hvitserk was the same age as Bjorn when we had met, and clearly not the eldest child. Ubbe showed the signs of being a fair leader one day, the others... 

I didn't want to think on it. I had no desire to delve into my failings as a caretaker, not on a day like this. With everyone knowing Ragnar had died now, with the gods involved... 

"Did you really see Odin?" I asked. The slow frown forming on his face as I looked up worried me.

"Didn't you?" The surprise in his voice was thick as he let go of me, sat up straight as he wiped away my tears. 

A surge of anger flowed through me, hating the Allfather if this would be true. Had I not deserved a personal visit? Was I not in need of the gods guiding me? Where the hel was Freyja when I needed her?

"Lagertha told me," I admitted, leaving out that I hadn't believed her until the boys had come up to me. "I haven't seen the gods since Uppsala. I thought you knew, if I had I would've told you all about it." 

"What? But you... You told me the gods watched over you." 

"They did... They gave me..." I fell back into despair, hating all of their signs to me. I didn't want thirty-seven to be correct, and I didn't want to have a strange feather as the only proof I had ever seen a god with my own eyes, in the flesh. At the least they could've left me with the memories of meeting them.

"They gave you Freydis, they gave you a life here. If it weren't for them you wouldn't even be crying here after all these years. And most of all, they gave me you. If it hadn't been for you..." He brushed a hand over my hair, tugging at my heart. He shouldn't know how to comfort me like Bjorn used to do, nor how to pull me out of my sorrow before I went in too deep. 

Sigurd let go of me when we heard the door open, followed by the scuffle of the twins returning home. 

"Hey Sigurd," Thormund said. "Have you seen - mom?" 

I hadn't meant to scare him like this, but seeing how distraught his face was I couldn't bother hiding my tears. Not with him and Siggy running up to me for a hug. "It's your grandfather," I said before they could start a barrage of questions. "He died, we just found out." 

I felt their hesitance to respond at all. They hardly knew him, and they didn't know what I did. Ragnar had succeeded in his plan, and now the Viking would go to war against Aelle. And if only for my child, for all of my children, I would join them.


	17. Rules of Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 15-04-815

The door slammed open with such a bang I almost cut my fingers. I took in a breath to chide Sigurd, but he wasn't done being angry. I put the knife I'd been sharpening on the table.

Sigurd kicked at a seat, sending it flying. It landed a few feet off. "That fucking bitch!" He threw the door shut right after.

"Sigurd!" I slammed the table, furious at his behavior. The knives I'd been sharpening could wait for a bit.

"She's gone too far this time!" He leaned on the table and pointed at the door. "Why aren't you slapping some sense into im!" 

"You know better than to shout here." What had gotten into him? I'd never seen him this angry.

"This isn't the time for that!" He was beside me in three steps and tried to drag me up from the bench.

I jerked free from his grasp. "Sigurd, what are you talking about! What happened!" It was rare for him to get this angry over anything that didn't have to do with Ivar or his parents. "Is it Lagertha?"

Sigurd scoffed, then let go of me. "You haven't heard yet, have you?" He sounded as if he was angry at me for it. "He didn't ask?" When I didn't reply he banged a fist on the table, then stared off to the wall.

"Obviously, I have no idea what's going on. Use your words, What did you find out?" Just what had gotten to him like this? Was this the result of Odin's visit?

"Ubbe just freed Margrethe. He means to marry her." 

My mouth opened. I stopped breathing, the air slowly leaving my lungs. I failed to catch my breath.

Only after I swallowed did I breathe again, and it was deep and angry from the start. As my anger built, Sigurd calmed down.

"What did you just say?" I asked, forcing myself to stay calm as I clenched my fists

Sigurd slowly lost his red glow, instead turning pale as my knuckles. "Ubbe asked her to marry him, before he even freed her. She stopped working on the wall immediately." 

That meant Lagertha knew. There would be Hel to pay. 

My hand ached to reach out to the knife and throw it into the wall. It was easier than cracking Ubbe's skull over this. "And how does he think that will work out?" Ubbe wasn't her owner anymore. Lagertha should've dragged her back to the wall as soon as she found out. Both of them deserved to be shamed in public over this.

"He told me to mind my own business. Then I came here. Auntie..." Sigurd reached out, but a snarl deterred him.

"Oh, don't you dare. You came in throwing around chairs, accusing me of not caring. You're coming with me. I need you to keep me from ripping off his fucking head!" I slammed my fists on the table and got up, feeling a fury burning inside of me that not even Frida had released. I'd kill him. I'd strangle him with my bare hands.

"Auntie, calm down." 

Like saying that had ever calmed someone down. Sigurd should've known better. If anything I wanted to hurt both of them, now. "Where is he!" Spittle flew from my mouth. I didn't care.

Sigurd stood still as a troll in morning light. I saw it on his face. He didn't want to betray his brother, but he'd never lie to me. "He's with her. They're celebrating." 

They'd gone to his new house. I tore open the door and strode out, taking deliberate steps. I wanted to run over, but I had to keep up appearances.

"What are you going to do? Rush in and spoil their first night together?"

"If it were up to me they wouldn't even have a minute together. Or a second. Don't you dare judge me, now."

Sigurd easily kept up the pace, but his footing was uncertain and clumsy as he tried to catch my attention. "You're overreacting."

I kept my eyes down. No one had to see how angry I was, or could be for that matter. I wanted to see heads roll, blood spill. "You were just as angry when you came in. Don't you dare blame me for being just as mad."

"I was hoping you could talk me down! Auntie, ease up. I've never seen you like this." He was right. Normally I hid my real anger. But this went beyond, this was worse than with Aslaug.

This was supposed to end after Vinh had died. I'd gotten my revenge, but instead I thirsted for even more blood.

I clenched my fists trying to keep it down. I knew I should turn back, take my bow and arrow and head for the forest. But this was Ubbe reverting back to his rebellious streak now that his mother had died. This was him acting out again, and without Bjorn to help me out I would be hard-pressed to get him in line myself. I needed my anger now, even though it would cost me. I loved Ubbe too much to have him throw away his life like this. 

Sigurd kept silent as I marched on. He followed me in as I threw open the door.

Margrethe let out a tiny cry, gathering the sheets around her naked body as Ubbe jumped up. He turned red as he tried to get his pants back on. "Auntie! Don't you know how to knock!"

I had to take a deep breath as I tried to come to terms with what I was seeing. He'd really done it, he'd freed her. He'd been fucking his fiancée when I'd barged in. 

"Get fucking used to it! I spent years with you boys walking in every time of day! What the fuck were you thinking!"

"You fucking traitor!" Ubbe shouted at Sigurd as he almost fell over, his leg caught in his clothing.

I stood in front of Sigurd before Ubbe could even contemplate making a rush for his brother. "Don't you dare blame him, he's got some measure of sense left! How dare you pull shit like this, huh! You arrogant twat, didn't I teach you how to be respectful? You know what you did is wrong, otherwise I would have known about it before. You're not thinking straight!" I wanted to smack at his head, but he caught my arm. The astonishment in his eyes told me he got a sense of just how angry I was.

"I am a free man! I can -

I smacked him with my other hand. "You're a lost boy! What in the name made you think this was a good idea!"

"I'm an adult!" Ubbe tied up his pants and stepped beween me and the bed. Margrethe was still cowering in the sheets. 

"Then start acting like one!"

"You're not my mother!" 

I took a deep breath, pressing down the urge to get a knife and stab him. My fingers turned white as I grasped one of the few chairs he had, feeling the wood bend beneath the pressure I applied. I'd kill him if I let go of this chair. My fingers itched to feel it slipping through my fingers.

"Ubbe is still Ragnar's son," Margrethe said. 

Sigurd stepped in front of me as I slowly rose my head. "Don't, this is not about her." 

I pushed his hands aside and saw Margrethe shrink underneath the furs. Ubbe refused to budge. "Oh, trust me. I know that, you blond bimbo. I was here to raise him, I thought I had done a good job until he started to think with his dick. I also know that Lagertha is the one that owns you, still. I know she won't stand for this, if she finds you. And if she does, what do you think she will do?" I made my way over, only stopping when Ubbe grabbed hold of my shoulder. Our eyes locked.

If I would raise my voice again he'd kick me out. He looked stubborn like only Bjorn had ever looked, his jaw jutting forward. If he would've come to me about this I'd never would have allowed it. I'd kept Margrethe from being alone with Ubbe until he'd gotten over his infatuation. He was too young to know about love. 

"Ragnar will return! He will protect his son!" 

That fucking... She'd taken a calculated risk. "Ragnar is dead!" Both of his parents are dead! Do you think this has anything to do with you!" 

"What do you know!" Ubbe stepped back. He sat down and took Margrethe in his arms. She cuddled up to him as she gave me a dirty look. "I love her, and I will marry her!"

"Just because Hvitserk and Ivar are gone doesn't mean you don't have any responsibilities anymore!" I wouldn't let him make a stupid mistake because he just lost his birth parents.

"Don't act like you know me! Get out, now!" Margrethe buried her face in his chest, pulling him close. She whimpered, causing him to look down with a look of pure protective instinct and love. 

I almost vomited into my mouth. I wanted to rip into Ubbe some more, but I had to get my calm back. There was a knife too close by. Sigurd put his hand on my arm. 

"We're not done," I warned him before I turned around, keeping my fingers in fists to keep from grabbing the knife and throwing it. I'd strangle him when I'd calmed down.

"You just hate me because I was a slave! You think none of us are good enough for you!" 

I stopped dead in my tracks. 

Margrethe kept on whining with her voice like nails dragged over a chalk board. "You think I'm not good enough for him! But I love him, he freed me because he thinks I can be better than you!"

As I took her in, I knew she would hurt us, all of us. She was delusional, and that made her dangerous. Perhaps it was best to kill her. Too bad Ari couldn't do it for me. I'd have to get my hands dirty myself. Would she scream very loud? I'd have to get to her in the forest. A beautiful spot near the road to Trondheim, perhaps. Where the earth was loose and the grass was lush. She wouldn't be alone.

"Ubbe, she scares me..." Good. She had every reason to. Sigurd pulled me back from getting closer.

"Walk away," Sigurd whispered in my ear, "before you lose him for good." 

I turned around and went outside, feeling sadness burn beneath the fury. With my eyes closed I swallowed it all down, knowing I was in trouble. I still craved blood to run down my hands, and I was headed into war soon. 

"You could've handled that better," Sigurd said. His voice dripped in sarcasm, but I didn't want to hear it. This was us fighting like before, when he was a rebellious teen. I'd get him to see sense, soon.

"I was angry, it happens. I'll talk to him again tomorrow."

Sigurd walked close to me, his arm dangling awkwardly. "You didn't see the look in his eyes when you left. He was angry, not sad that you weren't happy for him. I've never seen him like that. Nor you, why did you get this pissed off?"

My arm hooked his. I squeezed his arm for a second. He relaxed a little. "Your brother knew I would get mad. He started acting out after Ragnar left as well, and now he feels like he's alone. I should've known, I was too worried about Hvitserk and Ivar coming back." Ivar would come back first. It wouldn't be long, now.

"Auntie, I know you're angry but you have to tell me what's going on inside your head. You look ready to kill someone." Slicing her throat would be too easy. I could gut her, like I'd done with the Lawgiver.

"I need to think. Would you mind starting dinner while I head out to the range? I don't want Freydis to come home with no one there."

"Are you sure you don't want me along?"

"I'll be fine. I just need to let off some steam, before I rip of someone else's head." I flashed him a smile that didn't exactly convince him, but it got him off my back. We went inside my home where I changed and got out my bow and arrow, then left again. I made sure to grab one of the horses from the stable, I'd want to hit some moving things today.

On my way out of town I passed by the construction of the wall. Lagertha was busy digging, and I gladly rode past without catching her attention. It came along nicely now the first pieces of wall were upright, I'd have to check on the progress soon.

As I rode off to the range I could finally breathe in fully again. I didn't have to hide the bloodlust here, I could fire off arrows without remorse from this point on. Rising from the saddle I got used to Pooh's gait. His coat was magnificent, but I'd chosen him because he had come with Lagertha. I took pride in my moving archery, and getting used to a new horse would show me just how dependent I was on knowing the horse I rode.

It was true when I said I hadn't missed an arrow for over four years, when it came to stationary targets. Moving ones were different, even if I was the one that did the moving. I didn't have time to hang up targets today, nor did I have the patience. I got Pooh to speed up and fired at low hanging, thick branches.

If I would go to England, I would need to put in more hours. Should get a new bow, too? I could be best to just take this one, even though it would catch some eyes. Floki had made it for me, after we'd came up with a recurved design. It was shorter, but held more power. The fact it made more noise as I shot an arrow didn't matter. If I wanted to kill someone, they would be dead before the sound reached them. It was perfect for killing someone like Margrethe. 

I smiled as a branch snapped from the impact of my arrow. Those Saxons wouldn't know what hit them. We'd go and avenge Ragnar, claim our vengeance upon their lands. Ragnar... I hadn't grieved for him yet, not with my life being busy with getting ready for the journey. 

Ragnar truly had no idea what his return had meant. How his death would impact our lives even after he had gone. Then again, perhaps I had been too rough on him. I had blamed him for everything that had gone wrong since Kol had died, for taking away my life and choices. But I chose this life. I hid from the bloodlust that slumbered inside of me. I feared it more than I did dying.

As I emptied my quiver I slowed down to turn around and fetch my arrows. Having the whole forest covered in them would turn a few heads, and that I couldn't afford. This was my thing, not anyone else's. The children were learning, but they weren't ready for the horses yet. 

One of my arrows had gone higher than I thought. I had to climb up to Pooh's back to get to it, and even then it wouldn't budge. 

I got distracted by a firefly passing by. Those didn't show themselves this time of year, nor this time of day. 

I followed it with my eyes, watching as it happily buzzed on by. Just where did it come from? And where was it going?

I didn't have time for an insect, I had to get back home. I returned to yanking at the arrow again, and almost got it loose when Pooh took a step forward. I could barely keep standing. 

"I told you to stand stilll," I muttered. In response he shook his mane, his ears pointed up as he raised his head. I left the arrow for what it was and slowly lowered myself. Standing on its back must have spooked him, Pooh wasn't used to this. "It's okay, I'm just a little weird sometimes. See, I'm down already. Shh, it's okay." 

He kept trampling around. Someone must've been near, and as I looked around I saw another firefly. 

"Show yourself!" I shouted as I took my bow in hand, notching an arrow. "Stop lurking about and be a man!" The hairs in my neck stood upright, a chill spreading through my body down into my limbs. 

"Ragnhild." It was a whisper, but it sounded like someone sat beside me. A woman.

I turned around, seeing nothing but a few fireflies and the forest as I knew it. Whatever was happening, I didn't want to stick around for much longer. I nudged Pooh, who was eager to start walking. With my thighs I sent him on, clacking my tongue to get him to speed up. I kept my eyes on my environment, listening as much as I looked. She might be an enemy.

A branch snapped to my right. "Ragnhild," the voice whispered from my left. 

Keeping my head to the right, I realized that whoever I was up against, they would win. I lowered my bow and grabbed the reins, eager to get back to town. Whatever was going on here, I wanted no part of it. A crow cawed, flying overhead. It drew my eyes back to follow it, but it faded in the dark clouds as it flew up towards Ymir's skull. Behind me a storm swirled, dark clouds piling on fast. I turned back and put my heels in Pooh's sides. He already ran as fast as he could. 

Work at the wall was coming to an end. The first drops of rain started to fall, the whole I glanced back after I made it out of the trees, seeing nothing but the storm. The crow had gone a different path, as had the fireflies. A wolf howled in the distance, long and wailing, as if the chase was now on. Another shiver rolled through me, making me remember that I wanted to get inside before the storm broke loose. 

"Ragnhild!" Lagertha called out, but still my heart sank at hearing my name. She'd given her all today, she looked tired. And angry. 

I halted in front of her, looking down at her dirty face. "If this is about Ubbe, I already told him off."

"Why weren't you here to help out today? When I said everyone had to help, I meant it."

Glancing back at the forest, I saw it was just a storm as any other. There hadn't been any danger. My mind was playing tricks at me after the hard day. Emotions always drained me. "I had some errands to run at home."

"You went out riding, while all of us were working to protect our town. You can't just shirk your responsibilities." She came closer, until she was able to speak so softly no one else could hear. "You owe me, after that stunt with Ari. I am still the queen, and I need you to follow me. I thought I had made that clear, even before I came here."

"It's been a tiring day. I'll come by tomorrow, I promise. I didn't miss today on purpose." 

She didn't want to believe me, but with me sitting so much higher than her, she didn't have a choice but to let me go. Just in time as well, the thunder was rolling in. "We need each other. And you may not be my daughter for much longer, but that doesn't mean I don't want to get along with you." 

Faking contrition, I lowerd my head. The day's worries would cover for me. "I know, I'm sorry. I needed to let off some steam after what Ubbe did today, that's all."

"You mean his freeing of Margrethe."

"And asking her to marry him." Lagertha's face turned to stone. She turned away and strode off without another word. Ubbe would get more than a scolding for this.

I continued on home, the eerie feeling from before lingering as the sky darkened above me. I didn't have time to worry about invisible voices. If Lagertha so desired, she could have Ubbe run off from town. Margrethe would be killed, but I didn't want her life at the cost of Ubbe's home. I dropped off Pooh in capable hands and went home, eager to shake it off with a nice hot meal. But as I entered, I found even more problems.

Ubbe was sitting opposite of Sigurd, by the table. The twins weren't back yet, but Freydis was stirring in the cooking pot. She was careful about it, as I'd taught her, but why would Sigurd ask her to stir while he sat there? 

"What's going on here?" I put down my bow and quiver, dreading the response. Just how fast had Lagertha moved?

"Something..." Sigurd's eyes shot over to Freydis. 

"Ivar came back," Ubbe said. He didn't look up from his mug, taking a long swallow after he said the words. "He got a visit, too. We were right."

Freydis didn't look up either, but she looked troubled. I went over to her and took the spoon from her hand, then pulled her close. Her hands clutched at my shirt. With Freydis in my arms I sat down next to Ubbe, putting a hand on his face so I could look in his eyes while I pressed Freydis close to my heart. He was telling the truth. Odin had come to him as well, but later. Then the fireflies... 

Ubbe sighed as he leaned back. "He got dropped off by an English ship. From what he told, he's lucky to be alive. He's getting some food and sleep. I haven't... He doesn't know about mother yet."

I let out a hampered sigh myself, knowing this would be the start of everything. Freydis was right to be this worried.


	18. Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20-04-815

Lagertha cleaned the blood off her sword as I approached. Ari's spasming body bled out on the street a little ways off. The crowd gathered was a large one, but they had been silent in their fury. Had they looked at me like that, I'd have doubted my need for vengeance on a woman that old. Still, it had been justice well served. Time for me to get started on the rest of my life again.

"Lagertha. A word?" From the corner of my eye, I saw Torvi and Astrid drag the body away, before anyone could defile it.

She looked up and went inside, not acknowledging me in the slightest. I couldn't blame her. She'd have to get her hands on a new healer now, though Aslaug should've done so years ago. I followed after her, behind her throne where her private quarters were. I walked through what I wanted to ask her. Someone had to know, I needed an ally. And with this, I knew I could count on her, no matter what.

"What troubles you?" Lagertha asked as she poured only herself a mug of wine.

I didn't let it bother me and went for the water myself, earning me a slightly raised eyebrow. I waited to speak until she was seated. For a change, I had no desire to make this one of our secretive talks. I wanted straight answers from an honest woman. At least, during the first part of this conversation. 

I didn't know how else to put it. "I'm pregnant. Bjorn's the father." My spine tensed in preparation of her response.

Lagertha took in a breath, her eyes wide.

"It must have happened in the woods. It's highly unlikely this happens, but it seems the gods have something in store for me." My eyes dared her to ask me if I was certain. 

Had it been anyone else making this claim, she wouldn't have believed them. Had there been anyone I'd batted my lashes at, she would've grasped at it as a defense. But against all odds, against the yearning I felt when I lay alone in my bed at night, I'd stayed faithful. I refused to give Bjorn a reason to push for divorce at the Thing; I wasn't ready to risk that.

"What do you want to do?" she asked. There were options, both of us knew. Torvi had not conceived again, and Lagertha knew it was my doing. I still felt guilty over it, now even more so. I'd been thought barren once, but now I'd gotten pregnant for the second time. Just the sheer amount of women that had thought I could cure them, too... It was gut-wrenching to think back to it. As soon as Torvi heard she would cast me that one look that lasted half a second too long. Then she'd shake her head, look at Guthrum and force herself to be satisfied again.

"If Bjorn and Hvitserk make it back in time I want to join the raid to avenge Ragnar. I need to know if Bjorn and I are beyond repair, or if we still have a chance. I owe it to this child to find out. I know how the twins and Freydis feel about us and the divorce, but this is a sign from the gods. And I need to know if we have a chance before Bjorn finds out there is a child involved. I don't want him to try just because of the child, I know how that will play out."

"You might show before they make it back," she said as she pondered over her horn. Her eyes lingered on mine, worrying me about how I was going to hide my pregnancy once I was there. If I got sick all the time... "But do you still love him enough to make it work on your end? After all these years..."

"I know he's been an asshole, but he wouldn't try and pull what he did in the woods unless he still cared about me. I know that trying to hurt someone like that can be a result of how desperate someone is to connect. He wanted me to give in, not hurt me. Me being the one to bring up a divorce scared him more than I thought." That had to be it, otherwise there was no hope left from the start. Lagertha's face told me nothing. Was this her showing her age? Had this news taken her by surprise this badly?

"I can hardly blame you for wanting to try," she said as she rose her head to meet my eyes. "I wished I had given Ragnar a chance like that."

So far, so good. I needed her on my side, if only a little if I wanted her to share about her experiences in England later on.

"I'm glad to hear you say that. I don't want the children with me on the raid. I don't want to have to hold back when I'm there. Can you take care of them in my absence?"

Lagertha took a swig from her mug. "You must trust me a lot if you're willing to let me take care of them."

"You would never let your own grandchildren get hurt. Bjorn would never forgive you. Besides, you know you have my loyalty. Even if I fail and come back without Bjorn at my side again, I'd still do everything in my power to help you. For the past twelve years, I have considered you my mother, and I hope to do that even when Bjorn and I get divorced."

Lagertha hummed. "Your children can stay here with me. Though I might scold them if they call me grangran to my face."

I smiled, loving how much she cared for them. They were her only grandchildren, after all. She would protect them with her life, of that I was certain. Nothing would happen to them as long as they were here.

"Stop them from calling the boys their cousins, while you're at it. Our weird little family has enough confusing relationships between people, it doesn't need to get any worse."

Lagertha was just as pissed off about Ubbe and Margrethe, but for the sake of keeping the peace, she had allowed their engagement. It made sense, but it stung all the same. "While you're here, how are the boys doing?"

A sigh escaped me. It was a tenuous situation, according to Sigurd. "I'm not sure. When it was just Ubbe and Sigurd they only bided their time, but it changed since Ivar returned. He won't even talk to me. With two against one they might decide to try something soon. They won't wait until Bjorn gets back."

"I'll take some precautions." Lagertha made to get up, but I put a hand on her arm.

"There's something else I need to ask you," I said, my voice close to a whisper. "When we head for England, we'll be surrounded by enemies."

Lagertha lowered herself again, knuckles turning white as she clutched the armrests. "I'd say you will have no trouble outsmarting whatever foe you come across." Her face turned a light pink, her eyes narrow and burning with fire.

I leaned forward, resting an elbow on my knees. "Lagertha, this isn't just to satisfy my curiosity. You know what's at stake here, especially if Bjorn joins as well." She would have to raise the twins as her heirs, if both of us died. "You spent time with Ecbert, but you refuse to speak of it."

"And for good reason," she hissed as she leaned forward. "That man -" She got up, heading for her bed.

"It's not just about Bjorn," I reminded her. She froze, her hand drifting towards her hip. There wasn't a sword to grasp at, not in her own rooms. I tried to stop myself, but I leaned back in my seat all the same. Lagertha frowned as she saw. I might as well have put my hands up. "I don't need details; I need to know what I'm up against."

"What makes you think you have a right to know about my past?"

I swallowed, took a deep breath. She could still scare me, and now she'd smelt blood. "I make it my business to know things, and for that I need to ask questions. Don't tell me you're one of those idiots who thinks the gods whisper in my ears. Is he calculating? Ambitious? Stubborn?"

Lagertha froze in place, steeling her nerves before she turned around to face me again. It was useless. I could see her body tense up, her quivering hand given away by the shadow she cast on the wall through the fireplace. I knew that anger. I knew what it could cause when it fired off misdirected.

"He's a monster," she growled as she turned around. "The things he - " Her feelings overtook her face, warping it before she could turn away. 

I'd underestimated how much it still tore at her. "Help me spare us from the same fate. If he chooses to interfere, we'll be forced to take him out, as well. I don't want to go in blind." Whatever happened, this was the kind of trauma no one wished upon their worst enemy. I had to play on her guilt, horrible as I felt for dragging it out of her.

Lagertha paced in restless circles. "Why are you the one asking me this?"

"Because I am the one that thinks ahead. I know what Ragnar wanted to happen, and I know what is at stake. I'm not willing to take any risks I don't have to; it'll be dangerous enough for me over there." I let my hand slide towards my belly, consciously, then slid it towards my armrest.

"You're risking my anger asking about it," her voice returning to calm. It was the creepy calm that Bjorn could feel as well, with a fire only burning on the inside. I truly couldn't fathom what Ecbert must have done to her. It had made her wary, and afraid of the mere mention of England. She wasn't only staying back to consolidate her power. Underneath the fire was fear.

"I'm asking you to keep us from what happened to you. Is talking about that man worse than have your son risk the same happen to him?"

"He's not at risk! You are!" She threw her cup into the hearth, where it hit an edge and cracked. I didn't move, waiting for her to continue. I was afraid to make a sudden move. "He's a predator! He made me - " Lagertha turned away again.

"He can't hurt you anymore." I got up, feeling like there should be something I could do for her.

"He hurt me enough to last a lifetime," she snapped, turning her face to mine. She had tears in her eyes, something I'd never seen before. "He lured me in, and I didn't even know it was happening. He degraded me, humiliated me, he took away my pride and my dignity."

Touching her would be a mistake, no matter how badly I wanted to comfort her. "He didn't keep them. You reclaimed them, you didn't break."

"What would you know of such a..." Lagertha kept on pacing, turning around to face me, seeming frantic. "You grew up with a monster like him, didn't you?"

My expression soured. "He never let me feel safe, except when I was with him. He had me raped when I was still a child. He told me his God hated me for everything I did wrong." She must've heard a few choice things over the years. If only she would feel comfortable enough to share at least something. Lagertha needed to talk about this, all of it.

I got up and offered her a new cup. Her eyes met mine, showing a hurt I had rarely seen. It was like looking into a mirror.

She took the mug and walked over to the fireplace. Leaning into the wall, staring into the heart of the fire, she whispered. "He liked to watch as I fucked whomever he chose. He had me do things the gods will never accept. He tried to lure me to his false god, while he threatened to destroy the settlement if I refused. The day he let me go, he burned it and forced me to watch. I saw them all die. They never stood a chance." Her eyes glossed up to the gods, her lips falling to a silent prayer.

Even the summary tore at my heart. She was right to call Ecbert a monster. I put my hand on her shoulder. "He should be ashamed, not you."

"I had a choice, every time." Lagertha stared at my hand. 

I shouldn't have touched her. "Sometimes there is no right choice," I stressed.

"I was weak. I shouldn't have gotten myself in that position, to begin with." She was angry at herself, most of all. This what was I could have become, had it not been for Bjorn. I owed him so much, how could I not still love him?

"Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault. If anyone should be ashamed - "

Her eyes hardened. She closed off to me. "I blame Ragnar, for leaving me there. I blame Athelstan, for not speaking up on what happened to him there. And I blame you."

"Me?" I took a step back. Why would she blame it on me? She'd ignored Ragnar's warning when she decided to stay, and Bjorn's as well. They had felt off about Ecbert, but they hadn't been able to pinpoint where it came from.

"You are supposed to know all, and you -"

"I am not Odin! I am not a god, you cannot hold this against me." She should know better than this. Keeping me to an impossible standard was unfair, I expected better from her.

"Don't lie to me! You knew about him!" Lagertha made me regret wanting to talk about it at all. My blood pressure increased just from being around her. This wasn't good for my child, not this early in the pregnancy. "You could have kept me from it!"

"In case you forgot I was a bit preoccupied - "

"Stop it!" Her wine splashed into my face, stinging my eyes. "Stop it, damn you! Stop making excuses, stop making sense when it doesn't make any sense!" 

I barely managed to get the wine off my face before she pushed me over. I stumbled onto the armrest of my chair. My baby. I barely managed to keep from falling down. Gasping, I put a hand on my belly.

My eyes shot up to see if the threat was still there. Lagertha's eyes were closed as she sank to her own seat. I took a few deep breaths, until the adrenaline died down, then took my seat.

Lagertha looked even worse than before. The lines in her face showed. Her hair was slowly succumbing to the grey. "I'm so sorry, I - I didn't mean..."

"I know. I had to deal with a lot of rage as well when I started to talk about it."

Lagertha got a cloth and tried to dry me off as best she could. The red wine would ruin my dress regardless, but I let her absolve her guilt. I kept taking steadying breaths, not knowing what to say. Her rage was still there, but for now, it got overpowered by the fear underneath. "How did you get past it?"

"I talked about it. Bjorn helped me through, all of it. It took years to recover to a point I trusted myself again."

"I don't have years. I have a kingdom, and too many enemies."

"And anger issues," I added, gaining back ground underneath my feet. Lagertha pulled away the cloth. I closed my eyes and breathed through the adrenaline. "Either shove it all away as you have until now or deal with it like a fucking adult."

"You asked about it. I was fine before."

"You are not, and until you start accepting how badly he broke you, you will never heal. Think back, when did the anger and rage overtake you? When did you surprise even yourself?"

She threw away the cloth and sat down, staring at the fire again. "I hardly recognize myself. I keep busy, with ruling, and training my girls, but when I'm alone I can still hear his voice. The things he tells me, I - it keeps repeating, over and over."

"You start believing it for yourself, after a while. It's more common than you think. Just remember that it's his voice and opinion, not yours." If I'd known before, I could have helped her sooner. This whole revenge of hers, taking over Kattegat could have been an effect of her time in Wessex. There was no way to say for sure, but there had been no desire to take revenge before she'd gone to Wessex.

I'd have to be careful, at any rate. That man was capable of breaking Lagertha to this degree... Eager as I was to defeat a man like that, we'd have to avoid getting in touch with him. Ecbert was more dangerous than any other man alive.

"How can I..."

"Talk about it, with someone you trust. Tell them your story, all the things you felt, and thought, and worried about. You could tell the gods, if you want to."

Lagertha looked up. "The gods? They know what happened." Her face was still dry. Her eyes had welled up, but not a tear had fallen. She was made of iron, but now it was time for her to soften up. She had to feel to get past this.

"Nevertheless, it helps to say it out loud. It's a way to admit it happened to yourself. Bjorn and I had a few good years after Uppsala because I told him what happened with Kol. It became something we shared, and it made us strong again."

"Then what went wrong?"

I closed my eyes, stroking my stomach. She deserved this piece of honesty from me, but I wasn't ready to admit it yet. "I was terrified of having a fourth child. I still am now. You saw how I was when I carried Freydis. I didn't want to put anyone through that again, and I couldn't make Bjorn understand. The gods wanted me to have this child, they want me to go to England."

"Then let me help you," she said with a smile. "You have nothing in terms of supplies, do you even have a tent?"

"I don't want to overplay my position. Torvi already borrowed me hers, it's small enough to set up by myself."

Lagertha finally smiled again, careful as it was. Was that a shred of pride? "You're going raiding for the first time in years, in your condition..."

"It has to be a secret, you know they will hold me back if they find out. I have to know if we can still work. It's not just about loving each other. I need to know if he will be able to help me raise our children together again. And I only have a few weeks to find out before I will start to show."

"I still have trouble believing it. I was there, he didn't do it."

"The gods did this," I sighed, not knowing how I felt about it, either. I already loved my child, fiercely. But knowing how it came to pass, how it had been conceived, how could I not hold the gods responsible? "I will go to England, no matter what." If there was truly nothing left of me and Bjorn, I'd find out there.


	19. Calling the Earls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 20-04-815

I pondered my plan as I walked home. Knowing the children would be safe here was one worry off my shoulders, but there were plenty of possible complications ahead. How would I be able to get through to Bjorn? Would he even want me there during the raid? I was a free woman, he couldn't stop me even if he wanted to, but I'd be under his command. He could have me guard the boats, or keep me at a distance easily. I needed to do this amicably, otherwise, I'd have lost from the start.

He had to come back soon. I'd need time to talk to him. However long it took him to get back, things would be moving fast from there. If it took too long we'd be stuck in the storm season. I didn't want to give birth in England over the winter. If Bjorn and I didn't work out, it would be Hel to stay there.

I opened the front door, surprised to see the boys at my dinner table. They had avoided me for days, and now this? I had things to prepare for the raid, my evening schedule was quite tight.

"What took you so long?" Ivar asked. "Been working on your ass kissing?" He grunted, no doubt from an elbow to the side. Ubbe was in charge, here.

I took off my cloak. They must've seen me go up to Lagertha before. I wasn't sure how they felt about it, or what it would make them think. After falling out with Ubbe, I had no idea what to expect from him.

"Why would mom kiss someone's ass?" Freydis asked.

I contained a snicker and let Ivar get himself out of this himself. I kissed the twins and picked up Freydis to give her a big hug, not acknowledging the boys in any way. I had tried to get them to talk to me for plenty of time. I was a bit upset with them, even Sigurd.

"Mom, what's ass-kissing?" Freydis asked, still wondering about what Ivar had said.

I could've kissed her. "It means you want someone to like you, so you can get things done. You flatter them, and make sure they know your name and what you want." I put her down on the ground and brushed a hand over her hair. She looked radiant today. Having her look this happy was all the proof I needed that I was a good mother.

"Do you actually have to kiss their ass?"

"It's a figure of speech."

"Oh. Is that why the boys are here?"

"I don't know, little bean. What did they tell you?"

She looked over her shoulder. "They said they needed you to help them." From the corner of my eye, I saw them shifting around uncomfortably. Whatever they were here for, Freydis had made sure they were aware of how badly we could see through them.

"Well then, shall we ask them what they need help with?"

"I'm not sure if this is something you want the children to hear," Ubbe said. He tried to look authoritative, but his eyes didn't linger on mine. He was uncertain of how to act around me, too. If his attitude wasn't aimed at me, he needed to seem in charge towards his brothers. There was still some dissent between them, and it didn't come from Sigurd.

"Then why would you come and find me here? You know we always eat around this time."

Ivar hunched down, his shoulders sticking up. He reminded me of a vulture. "Because you're off to the most peculiar places these past few days. At least we know you're always here around dinner time." His tone made it sound as if I'd been plotting things. I was, but not in the way they thought.

"The children know not to tell anyone of what's going on here," I said. Seeing me in action might prove to be a valuable lesson for them. The way their heads turned, the glint in their eyes, they had been waiting for this for a long time.

I looked at the three of them one by one. Ivar seemed to have recovered from his arduous journey back from England but still had dark rings around his eyes. He hadn't slept well. Sigurd shied away from his brother, a clear sign they'd been fighting a lot lately. Ubbe was torn between showing his strength to me and Ivar.

Finally, I sat down. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Ubbe did not waste any time. "Why have you been spending so much time with Lagertha?" 

"I helped plan the defenses. Lagertha wanted to set up more than just the wall, I thought you knew that." It was as much truth as I was willing to tell them.

Ivar's light blue eyes stared at me intently. "There's always more, auntie. That's one of the first things you taught me. What else?" 

I wouldn't let him intimidate me. "I've been talking to her about you." His eyes narrowed, no doubt finding whatever was most unlikely to be true. "You, Ivar, pose a problem. Coming back on a Saxon ship, claiming Ragnar wanted you to spearhead his revenge..."

"He did," Ivar insisted. "Odin came to all of us, telling of his death."

"Grandpa's dead?" Siggy interrupted. I extended my arms out and embraced her as she stood next to me.

I could strangle that bastard. "He is, honey. I meant to tell you after dinner. I know how much you loved being around him."

"We need to avenge him," Ivar said. "We need to kill king Aelle and king Ecbert. What's it to you, anyway? You're not coming."

"Why would you want to do that?" I asked, honestly surprised. Ecbert had nothing to do with Ragnar's death, and after my talk with Lagertha steering clear from that man sounded like an amazing idea.

"Be-because he's our father. He sent me back to make sure we'd avenge him."

"Don't lie to me. Boy." Ivar's eyes went wild with fire again. "Ragnar might have wanted revenge on Aelle, but I'm sure he didn't want Ecbert to suffer. He considered him his friend." I clutched Siggy close, feeling a tiny sob come from her chest. Ubbe held out a hand in front of Ivar to give me a moment with my daughter. 

Glancing around, I saw Thormund bucking up his chin. Freydis held his hand but didn't seem that affected herself. She must've dreamed about it already.

"We'll talk about it over dinner, okay?" I whispered. Siggy nodded against my shoulder, then retreated to the children's bedroom. Thormund and Freydis followed her behind the curtain.

"Why do you always have to be so hard on me, auntie?" Ivar lowered his eyes, bottling up his anger.

"Because you need it. That anger of yours is dangerous. Right now, you're a wildfire burning everything you touch. You need to use it for a purpose, not throw it at everyone that dares insult you." He looked up at me, a hint of doubt showing. It was so easy to read his face.

"My father said the same when we said goodbye."

Until now he had at least listened to me, but Ivar might very well do as he pleased now that his mother was dead. This was the moment Ivar would either lose control or turn into a man. I prayed to the gods it was the latter. "Your father saw what you are capable of. He loved you very much, despite his failings and not being able to show you."

"I know that," he spat, but I could see my words impacted him.

Sigurd cleared his throat. "We want to assemble an army. The greatest anyone has ever seen, twice the size our father took to Paris."

Six thousand men. That would be hard to gather anywhere. Just the stores that would be eaten through, not to mention all the resupplies needed for most of the allies who had gone with Bjorn. This campaign needed to depart fast, and not just for my sake. 

I'd have to call in some favors. Once I'd start to show, the window would've closed. "Most of our allies are off with Bjorn and Hvitserk. Who do you think you can reach out to that will actually respond?"

"We mean to convince those who aren't our allies. We'll -"

I bashed a fist on the table, scaring Siggy out of hiding. I'd talk to her later. "Have the messengers left?"

"They left this morning. Why?"

I stood up, my hands on the table and looking at the three of them intently. "You bloody fucking idiots! I told you! We're vulnerable enough as it is, and you want to invite every enemy we have? How could you be so fucking careless! If your summons arrive at the wrong port, we could have another invasion on our hands within days! Do you want us all to die? Do you really think the chance of avenging your father is worth more than the safety of Kattegat!"

The boys looked properly chastised, but I wasn't done yet. "How could you. How the fuck could you? If you all want to die that badly, go ahead. Swim across the sea and die a meaningless death. But how dare you bring that upon me and my children? Are you barking mad!" I sat down and rubbed my temples. These boys were going to be the death of me. I let out an angry grunt, wanting to strangle at least one of them.

"Mom?" I turned to Siggy, seeing the hesitation in her eyes. It calmed me down instantly.

"I'm sorry, Siggy. I didn't mean to scare you like that. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"Do you really think we'll get invaded again?"

I had misread her fear. Like me, she was terrified of losing more people. Thormund had a similar fear on his face, while Freydis radiated calmness as she patted her brother's hand.

"We'll be fine," she said. "Mom will fix it." 

How could she know that? Was it her blind faith in me, or something else? She couldn't have dreamed this would happen. I couldn't get a read on it, but Freydis was more gifted than I knew, or she was willing to talk of. 

"Freydis is right," I said. "I need to know where you sent the messengers. I'll send orders after all of them, we may be able to do some damage control."

"What do you want to tell them?" Ubbe asked. "We can promise more than you. We have."

I scowled at his childish attitude. "Stop acting so naive. I know the men you want to send the messages to. I can be very convincing, being the vessel of Freyja and all that. Some people still respect me for that." My eyes burned into his skull, then I remembered myself. This was about him nearly getting Kattegat invaded, not about his fiancée.

"So you'll help us?" Sigurd said with bright eyes. 

My anger flashed hot again, if only for a moment. The boys had played me, and I hadn't noticed until it was too late. Freydis had known, though. She told me so when I got inside. 

"Isn't that why you came here?" I asked. They might have fooled me, but I wasn't going to let it show. I didn't want to give them the satisfaction. "Now tell me, who did you want to contact?"

Ubbe couldn't contain a smirk. "Well, we haven't sent out any actual proposals yet. We were thinking of reaching out to all of Scandinavia. Earl Vic and earl Siegfried of Denmark, earl -"

My face and hands warmed up, shining bright in anger. "Don't call on Siegfried," I interrupted. "He's been plotting to take over Lagertha's lands. I know you hate her, but you must agree this is such a shitstorm already, we don't need to make it any bigger. Who else?"

"Earl Vilfred and Vilhelm. Earl Olafsonn. We decided against earl Bjarne." 

I remembered Bjarne. He was an okay guy, who would be sure to help us. "Why not Bjarne?"

Ubbe rolled his eyes. "Because he's a douchebag."

I scoffed. Fancying his wife and failing to seduce her at seventeen was not a reason to keep Bjarne out of this. "He was lovely when I met him in Uppsala. Invite him. I'll make sure he comes. If I remember correctly, he was very much interested in that old blanket. He'll come if it means I'll show him."

"Do you even still have that thing?" Ubbe asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. It's been a centerpiece in many a plot, I'll have you know. It's what made Ragnar expand his lands to Egersund after I had it for three days."

Ivar sat up straight. "What happened there? I didn't know you were involved with that."

I looked around, not wanting to tell the kids how I'd helped kill a man and his son without meaning to. "I'll tell you about it later. Tell me, who else? Anyone from around here?" I could grace them with a visit of my own if it was a day's travel off.

"Most of them are with Bjorn or have good reasons to hate us. You seem to have offended quite a number of them lately."

"Asking to see me naked to leer at my markings means they insulted me first. Invite them anyway, they'll feel spurned if they are left out. We won't include them in our estimates. If they show up, I'll force them to fall in line."

"Then there's Sigfrid from Sweden, and Hjalmar, Janne and Ingolf." I nodded, seeing no problem with those names. "And..."

"Waldemar," I said, rolling my eyes. "If Bjorn sees him, he'll kill him on the spot."

"Are you sure that's... still relevant?" Sigurd asked, darting a look at the direction of my children. Waldemar had tried to be a little more than friendly when we last spoke, which had greatly angered Bjorn. I'd managed to bloody his nose, but Bjorn was irate he even had tried to touch me. 

"It's about honor," I said, wanting to skip the topic. "But I also happen to know Waldemar doesn't go anywhere without Hjalmar. Did you know they are cousins? Since they found out they've been thick as thieves."

The boys glanced at one another. I'd taught them all about the relevant kings and their courts, but now they had to put that dry knowledge into a full-fledged working plan. "That could get messy," Ubbe admitted. At least he knew when to ask for my help, even though the way he asked was repulsive.

"Hjalmar allied himself with Ingolf last summer, trying to overthrow Janne. They failed, though, and now there's some bad blood." I sighed, very deep. I hated the words I needed to say. "Janne's been licking his wounds for a while. We'll have a better chance of asking Hjalmar and Waldemar."

"That's all," Ubbe said.

"If you still have some lackeys left, we should try and contact Graeme. I know he's become a bit of a recluse, but he'll consider coming over if it's for Ragnar."

"Graeme? That old goat who took over from Horik?"

"He was quite thankful for that whole ordeal. Saved him a lot of trouble. He's been a bit standoffish since Ragnar disappeared, but who knows. He trains some wickedly good archers with those crossbows. It could come in handy." I got up and grabbed some paper and a piece of charcoal, and lit a candle from the fire in the middle of the room.

I started drafting the messages, though aside from the runes it consisted more of drawings. Runes could only provide so much information without context.

"Bjarne is actually useless as far as bringing men goes, but his presence will make sure those twins stay out of trouble. Make sure the messenger compliments him on his ancestral sword, but don't let him ask to see it. He'll die for it." I crushed a bit of the charcoal on the paper and folded that shut so it would stay inside. Bjarne had been amazed when I told him of the Russian warfare technique of the scorched earth. He was smart enough to realize I meant it as an invite.

I finished the other messages and gave the boys instructions with each of them.

"There's one you left off the list," I noticed. "Don't think you could sneak it past me. What are you planning to do?" I knew she wasn't coming, but not informing Lagertha of the many people that were about to flood in was a huge mistake. She already knew, but it would only be proper to tell her face to face.

"I plan on talking to her tomorrow," Ubbe promised as he took hold of the piece of paper in my hand.

I held onto it, staring into his eyes. This was a third reason to be more than upset with him, but I'd get nowhere if he wasn't willing to talk about it. "After the messengers have left? I'd think on that plan a bit harder."

"I know what I'm doing," he told me defiantly. "Let me worry about it. This is something between us and her." I knew he meant to say it was between family but didn't want to tell me to my face. I considered myself as much a part of Ragnar's family as any of them.

"I have a say in this as much as you, Ubbe."

Ivar looked bored as he twiddled with the messages in front of him. "It's not like you're coming with us. Why would you care?"

"You three wanted to raise an army of six thousand men. Your brother succeeded in gathering the first three thousand, and then you came to me for the rest. If I were you, Ivar, I'd be paying more attention to how we do things." I raised up a hand before he could go against me. "You think you tricked me into helping the three of you? That the three of you combined were enough to take me on? In that case, I hope you feel special because it'll the one of the last good feelings you'll feel for a long time. As soon as those messages are sent, there is no turning back. You're risking the future of all of Scandinavia, asking me for these men. You're risking the survival of our people. Now is not the time to celebrate."

"I told you she'd notice," Sigurd muttered. An audible kick landed underneath the table. Ubbe jumped up but held back as he saw my face. 

I pretended not to notice. "I care because this campaign of yours because I care about all of you. Don't antagonize Lagertha even more. You'll not like what comes of it."

"We're grown men, auntie. You can't protect us from everything beyond that door anymore."

I hated to admit it, but he was right. As much as I wanted to protect them, all of them, they had to learn to make their own mistakes and live with the consequences. If only the stakes hadn't been this high the first time they tried. "Will you stay for dinner? Let me fatten you up a bit before you have to provide lodgings for three thousand men come to fight for you."


	20. Grunting Boars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ragnar's POV  
> 10-04-815

"How's life treated you?" Ecbert asked. "Is that son of yours still alive?"

Bjorn had been here with me, once. I'd chastised him for being worried over his wife, and then... Staying here in the villa for the expensive parties had eaten away at him. Perhaps he knew back then what I felt now. Ecbert was a dangerous man. The less he knew, the better. "Oh, I have so many of those nowadays, all of them alive. But I take it you mean Bjorn, the one you met once. He's well, raiding new lands as we speak."

"Ah, that's right. Bjorn Ironside. What a marvelous specimen, he is. You must be proud of him. I trust he's been well? He's not raiding nearby, I hope."

"He's sailed all the way down south, to the Mediterranean Sea."

Ecbert smiled sparingly. Ragnhild hadn't led Bjorn astray. It was a real place, after all. How had she known about it? Was it true that she'd flown over the clouds once? I'd figured she wanted to have some tall stories to tell herself, it must've been something to impress the boys. Then again, she preferred to boast about how well the twins were doing, and what a perfect daughter Freydis was. 

"Any grandchildren?" Ecbert asked. He swirled his wine around in a cup, leaning on the stairs with practiced ease. Every time I moved I felt my bones ache. Still, I forced myself to take another sip. I wouldn't let him paint me as an uncultured swine. Athelstan had taught me about our differences and the petty games they liked to play at court here.

Perhaps I'd see him again, soon. I missed him.

"Most of my sons are still young, they like the chase better than the prize. Bjorn has three children, and they are a miracle to behold."

Ecbert chuckled and raised his cup a little. "They're a lot less hassle than your own children. You get to have all of the fun and none of the responsibilities, if you do it right."

I nodded in agreement, remembering the times I spent with the twins before I left. It had been strange to bathe them, but the more time I spent taking care of them myself, the more they enjoyed my company. Bjorn had been right about that. Seeing how the boys clung to Ragnhild after her taking care of them should've told me all I needed to know. That woman was infuriating. As much as I hated it, she was always right when it came to these tiny things. Unfortunately, it made her believe she was right more often. She'd blinded herself, tried to alter the world around her to keep standing. At least she was right to blame me for most of that. I'd forced her into it, without a second thought to what it would cost her.

"What of their mother? I seem to recall him being anxious to go back home when we met. That's not common amongst your people, is it?"

The hairs on my neck stood up on end. "They're all doing well," I lied. "She's at home taking care of the people, and the children."

The smile he flashed told me I was right to be wary. There was something off about him. Was he happy to realize it was a lie? He'd always been corrupt and callous, but never cruel.

We'd bonded quickly when we had met, better than I had with the previous Ecbert. Back then everyone had been wary, but I never had difficulty accepting people who followed a different god. Lagertha had been softened up by Athelstan as well, had even chosen to remain behind with this man.

"How about you? Do you ever plan to appoint that boy as your heir? You look rather lonely here." I'd seen the lad from a distance, once. His eyes had seen through me, just like Athelstan had been able to.

"You've no reason to worry for me, Ragnar. I have more siblings than I care to count, and I'm fairly sure I'll come across a more suitable one before the year is over. That boy Alfred was amusing, but he's not fit to rule before a better one will come by."

He cast people aside with such ease. That boy had been with him for two years, allegedly the son of Judith and an apostate priest. Rumour had it she and her family had returned to her father in Northumbria, but no one had seen her since she got ousted for banging her father-in-law. "Why not make one yourself? It's a lot more fun, I can promise you that."

He laughed out loud. "No doubt you know all about that. Tell me, did you tell that boy the truth? Or is Magnus yours?"

"Kwenthrith fucked so many men and women alike, how am I supposed to know? She could've fucked my brother an hour after, for all I care. You know when the campaign was, and when the child was born. What matters is that he hasn't got the barest hint of Viking in him, and thinking he is like us will endanger my people."

"And what of your former wife?"

I smiled, knowing he'd end up asking about her eventually. "She's doing better than ever, if that is at all possible. Her earldom has flourished, and she's happy to spend her time with other women." I watched him carefully, seeing his eyes drift off for a moment. Was he remembering, or regretting?

"She was a wonderful companion, but in the end, her gods called her back home."

I was happy to steer clear from talking about our family. I didn't want to give him any more than I had to. Somehow, sometime, Ecbert would stand against my sons. I felt it in my bones. "Ah, the gods... Vicious cunts, to hear some say it."

Ecbert got up, swaggering as he tried to pretend he was drunk. "Really now? That from the man who claims to be descendant from the great Odin himself?"

"The gods are a way to survive, nothing more. They explain how the world works when we don't have an answer. My gods are just as real as your god."

He laughed as if I'd made a joke only he could understand. The sound echoed through the barren throne room, nothing of his inebriation left. Was he giving it away on purpose? "You have no idea, Lothbrok. What made you fall from faith?"

I took a slow sip from my wine. He was too eager to speak of this subject, too. "Does it matter?"

He stood up straight, eyes barely glazed as he stared in my direction. His face went blurry. "Humor me. I think I've earned it, for setting you free from that blasted cage."

He could put me back just as easily. It was better to go along with him, for now. He could still decide to kill Ivar. "If you must know, it was my daughter-in-law."

Ecbert sat up straight, hanging on my every word. "I thought she converted to your gods?"

Wait, when had I told him about her being a Christian? No, I'd never tell that to an enemy. Maybe Lagertha had? "She did... But something about her made me question everything I thought I knew. Have you ever met someone like that? From the moment I met her, I could sense something was off about her, and after all these years I'm still none the wiser."

That first time I'd laid eyes on her she'd intrigued me. Dressed in old, ill-fitted rags, somewhere between confusion and fear, all she cared about was some book she kept with her. Athelstan told me what it was, but I forgot. Something to do with her heart, no doubt.

"You're being awfully secretive about this daughter of yours, my friend. You make me want to meet her in person."

I smiled, grinned, knowing I would never tell him what I knew. "She would tear you apart. She can see right through any man with ease. All of us believe that the gods have already decided on our fate, but somehow she believes that she can control her own fate. There's no proof of that anywhere, but somehow she convinced me that she's right."

"Ah, I see. She made you doubt a piece of it, and from there it all unraveled. Now you no longer hear Thor's hammer when lightning strikes."

I frowned, recognizing those words as something Rollo used to say. Something strange was going on. Ecbert played me, but I wasn't the target. Was he trying to learn how to deal with Bjorn before my death?

"What of your own faith? Is your god still your guiding light?"

"Indeed he is. It seems my faith turned out to be stronger than yours." He took it as a point of pride. "Tell me, have you figured out where she came from yet? I remember Lagertha telling me she just appeared one day. Or has someone come by to claim her unexpectedly?"

I knew it. He was better informed than he had any right to be, he'd been sending spies to Kattegat for a while now. I had to tell Ivar so he could warn his brothers. They would think to tell their sister. Ecbert was planning on something, and it would be huge. Ragnhild was involved somehow, but I never told a soul she would come with, nor that she was with child.

Perhaps it was best to blow this whole thing off. I'd wanted to go out with a blow, but not at the cost of my family. Ivar would never convince the others to steer clear of Wessex. He'd never even pass on that message. His love for family didn't stretch beyond me and his mother, that much I learned over the past weeks.

I'd never get him to agree. The others, surely, but not Ivar. I would die. The campaign would happen. My plan was past the point of going back. Curse you, Odin. Why would you show me such a fearsome enemy, only to have me die before I could slay him? Beating Ecbert would be a tale worthy of the gods. "No, we never did find out. She told me about her lands and how her family is so far away that they can't even hope to reach her now. Not in a thousand years could they get to her."

Ecbert raveled in my words, seeming more eager to meet her after every word I said. He knew more than I imagined. Coming here had been a mistake, just like I had been wrong about so many other things. I should've gone with Bjorn, after all. Killing Rollo would've been a lot less messy. My mind wasn't sharp enough to keep up with someone like Ecbert. Not at the end of my life, while he looked to be bright as ever. He was supposed to be older than me.

"A thousand years... Do you think the world that large?" Ecbert asked.

"It's large enough. Now tell me, what have you done with my son?" 

Ecbert grinned, but his eyes showed malice. Just what was going on here? "Ivar is well taken care of, I assure you. Would you like to see him? I can have him brought up."

I nodded slowly.

Ecbert snapped his fingers. Two guards jumped up and left the room. "You know, I get the sense that you have some questions that you're not asking. Why not throw them out? It's not like I can refuse a dying man much."

"Because of your god? I know he shows mercy to those dying, a last meal and such." Ragnhild had brought one to Borg, once. A last meal, and a vow to uphold his last words. I'd have to make them count. Whatever god had taught her that, it was the same one Ecbert followed.

"Yes, because of my god. I know Aelle won't see to it for you."

I chuckled, swirling the wine in my cup. It tasted amazing, but I didn't want to get inebriated any more. "And yet you insist on sending me there..."

"And you don't seem to mind all that much. What makes you yearn for the great, empty void?" Ragnhild had called it that when she told me of the time she spent being dead. That last night with her had been... I had thought it wouldn't be as consequential as it had turned out to be.

"What makes you say it's a void?" I leaned back, watching Ecbert intently.

"Is that not what you expect? Nothing, just an end to your thoughts and what you feel? That you fade away?"

I narrowed my eyes, unsure what to make of this. Ragnhild told me about how she died, once. How her brother saved her life, but she still remembered the darkness.

"What else is there? Heaven?"

"Paradise. In Heaven, you can do whatever you please in the presence of the Holy Father." He truly believed it, with all of his being.

"So only then you'll be allowed to fuck whoever you want?"

"There is no sin in Heaven," Ecbert said with a nod. He finished off his cup and got up, dusted off his clothes, then beckoned behind him, not bothering to look back. How had he known there was someone waiting there? I couldn't even see them from where I sat.

Ivar got brought in. It drew me away from my thoughts, pulling me back to Wessex. My son looked angry and resentful as Ecbert welcomed him inside, offering him a seat at the table. I'd never get the boy to fall in line. Aslaug had done too much damage. It was written all over his mistrusting face, down to the disrespectful way he ignored our host. Whatever game Ecbert was playing, he was winning. 

Not a day later Ecbert had me carted out. The courtyard drowned in rain, but it hadn't stopped a crowd from gathering. I didn't mind. I hadn't been allowed to wash for days, and at last, I could rinse the dirt from the road off of me. Magnus stood by at the back, a curious blond sight in a sea of brown hair. Alfred stood front and center, guards at either side. Before they could put me in the cage I beckoned the boy over. No one had needed to point him out to me.

He glanced up at his guards, but they were just as confused. Slowly he made his way through the crowd.

My own guards were reluctant to let me go off, keeping their spears aimed at my head at all times. I ignored them, as did the boy. There was more to him than I'd thought. "Do you know who I am?" I asked.

The boy looked up, raindrops falling down in his eyes. He refused to blink. "You're Ragnar Lothbrok. You're our enemy."

"Once upon a time I was friends with your father. Did anyone ever tell you his name?"

"My mother did. I miss her, I haven't seen her in years. Is she dead? Ecbert told me she is."

I went down to a knee so I could look him in the eye. From my neck I took the cross I'd been wearing for years. "Your mother still lives, and your father loves you, too. He gave me this, right before he died. I want you to take care of this for him."

He gingerly took it, examining it with both eyes and fingers. "Thank you. I never had something of his before. How can I repay you?"

"Be a better man than Ecbert is," I whispered as I pulled him close with one arm. "He's dangerous."

The guards tore us apart, forced me up to my feet and shoved me back inside the cage. I barely got to see a glimpse of the boy again before he was carted off inside. Ivar stayed behind in the courtyard, sat atop a cart, equally soaked through.

"Don't you care about me?" Ivar shouted. "I'm your son!" Disappointment dripped down his face, mingling with the fat raindrops. 

"Then learn to use your anger for once! Stop lashing out and do as I told you!"

Ecbert laughed off in the distance. I refused to look back and humor him. Ivar's upcoming temper tantrum told me all I needed to know.

I was glad to be out of that villa. Ivar had a way of getting under my skin that had gone unparalleled for decades. I'd underestimated how well Ragnhild had gotten through to him. He was so much like his mother. Temperamental, easy to provoke, close-minded, and most of all he was insufferably smart. Ivar was off to Kattegat, but now I felt unsure if it had been the right thing. I wanted him to live, but as it stood now, he might just make things worse. It was no use to worry over it now. There was nothing more for me to do.

Ragnhild wasn't at the top of her game if she couldn't get Ivar to man up. She could grow to become even stronger. But time ran out for her, if Ecbert was any warning. She'd know how to handle a pompous sack of shit like him, especially if the gods blessed the fleet with an arrival near Northumbria. The campaign would steel her for a showdown against Ecbert. Everyone knew that the only thing Aelle was a threat to was the supply of wine barrels.

My mind went to Lagertha, and Bjorn, and Gyda. The simple life we'd had on the farm. We never should have left. I never should have gone to England in the first place. If I could keep myself from making those mistakes, I would. I would fix all of my failings, knowing what I did. I would love Lagertha like she deserves, be proud of Bjorn for the man he was, not let that blasted prophecy about my many sons get in the way. When had life stopped being enough?

It didn't matter. It was impossible to change the past, no matter how badly I wanted to. My time was running out and I had done what I could. There was only the reveal that would come on my last day on Midgard, the one thing that would somehow get everything to make sense.

You will know when the blind man sees you. For years those words had haunted me, and for years I had looked forward to it. I'd find out where Ragnhild was from. Then, the Seer had told me what else would happen on that day. And guiding the donkeys further into the English forests, on my way to said death, a blind man sat, claiming he could see me. I could barely curb my enthusiasm.

"Does that mean you know?"

The blind man laughed. "I know a lot of things, but I don't just know. I'm not a wizard that can see through time, and know what you might mean, or want, or do." A wizard? Some extraordinary human being with seidr? Was it even possible to see through time for someone who didn't have the Sight? Ragnhild didn't fit that description.

No, the man didn't know. But his words made me wonder.

"Do you know of people who can see through time?"

"I can't say I have... But then again, aren't all of our lives just stories that are yet untold?"

"You don't make sense," I muttered as I fell back in the cage.

"It's you who's asking senseless questions. Don't you have anything better to waste your time on? Some last advice? People always get so talkative, at the end. They always regret the things they didn't do, and the choices they never made."

"There are plenty of things I want to change, but I'm not really in a position to do much about it," I said, the heavy chains rattling between my arms.

"At least you're calm about your death. That's a first. Most aren't as willing to be tortured."

"I'm a breath of fresh air," I smiled. These people weren't used to weekly baths or cleaning your teeth once every three days. Disgusting beasts. "Tell me, have you ever heard of someone who claimed to come from a place we can't hope to reach in a thousand years?"

"A thousand years? It took less time for our Lord and Savior to be known all over the world. I reckon they been telling you some tall tales. Ain't no such thing as a place that far off."

"How would you know that?"

"The priests, they tell us. Everyone has been offered the Grace of Jesus Christ, and he was born less than a thousand years ago." The man showed a flourish of his hand as if that made it all ring true.

"Is that so? Do they know that much about the world, your priests?"

"I suppose they know enough. What's it to you?"

"I'm wondering about that claim."

"Oh, right. Well, I don't know much, but I know time always moves forward. Never seen it go back once. No sense talking of numbers we can't truly comprehend, that's what me mum always said."

I rolled my eyes. This fool was of no use to me. How was he supposed to tell me about Ragnhild? What could he ever know about her, or what I wanted to find out? The gods had lied to me, yet again. Vicious cunts. At the least, this blind man could provide me with some entertainment. "Then tell me, how do you know which way time goes?"

He turned around, the color of his eyes faded. He looked me in the eye. As he had promised, the donkeys knew how to find their way without his guidance. "You're a complicated fellow, ain't ya?"

I didn't need to bother hiding my smile. "Well, what if time can go back?"

He sucked his teeth loudly, close to a whistling sound came out. "Then we'd all be the same place we were back then. Can't see how that's any good."

What happened then if you ended up before you were born?

I sat up, chains dangling between my limbs. What if you ended up a thousand years before you were born? What if you traveled further back than your own past...

In the name of Odin, this couldn't be real. This must've been a joke. No. Traveling through time. Not by changing locations. The Wanderer, years back. He'd mentioned something like that. She wasn't the only one this ever happened to, and he feared her as if she could cause the collapse of the world. The natural order of thing, she could destroy it - and she didn't even know how.

Oh, no. Ragnhild knew. She knew how this revenge would end, and she'd tried to get me to change my mind. She'd grown up in the future, hearing all about us. Once she figured out she'd gone back at all... Her coming here, the fear in her eyes, it all made sense.

The world would become soft as clouds, one day. She'd been raised as a Christian, did that have anything to do with it? Would they win against the Viking? That must've been the disaster Aslaug kept yammering on about all those years, and why Ragnhild had returned here. It all made sense now, as the gods had promised.

That is - if this were all true. If Ragnhild had indeed traveled through time. I had to know for sure. "What if time is a way to travel?" A land I couldn't hope to reach for a thousand years... Not unless I'd live for that long myself.

It had been staring me in the face all these years. Her land was a thousand years away, in the purest sense of the word. No wonder she knew so much of warfare, she had learned from what was yet to come. She wasn't a Seer, she was... She just knew.

"Traveling through time? You're as mad as they say you are. How would that even look?"

I scoffed and leaned back into the cage. "About five foot three, blond hair, blue eyes."

The blind man laughed so hard he almost fell off the cart. He yanked at the reins, setting off the donkeys as they suddenly halted. My face nearly hit the bars of the cage.

The soldiers around us stared at us warily, spears drawn as if I were to blame. They ordered the man to get going again, with angry shouts. At least it got him off his giggly high horse. I wanted to know what he'd say.

He remained quiet, though. The landscape passed us by and I kept going over the revelation in my mind. Ragnhild came from the future. And for some reason, she thought that was a secret worth keeping. Bjorn knew, though. Ever since he'd come back and the twins had been born, he'd become more knowledgeable. He'd learned from her. What he knew of the Mediterranean, the strange choices he'd made... Oh, bless her spirit. She'd supported him despite their troubles, to help us overcome the fate she knew what was in store for us. Ragnhild was on our side. She would help us fight the future and the Christians.

Only as night began to fall did the blind man speak up again. The soldiers had turned lax, but I wondered how he had noticed. Perhaps he'd just waited until even he got bored out of his mind. "Are you saying king Ecbert has traveled through time? He's actually 5"5, and per his own words sent here by God."

I had no idea what he spoke of. Ecbert had been off, but... The way this man worried over the soldiers surrounding us, he was more of a daredevil than I'd thought. Ecbert's personal guard was sure to report back on any and all rumors they heard.

"What rumors do you have to share of this new king Ecbert?" I whispered.

The man spat. "You've met the cunt."

"And now I wonder, how is it a new king came to power, wielding the same name?"

"His own name is so difficult to pronounce he chose another. He came to power after Ecbert was found out for screwing his daughter-in-law."

That wasn't news to me. "Then where did the new Ecbert come from?"

"Well, according to you it's from another time. Others say from the other end of the world, or from Heaven. Can't see how a cunt like that would save us."

I had to hold back. This man was a wealth of hidden information, but I couldn't let on. I had to pretend this was about Ecbert. "Why do you hate him?"

The man stretched out his arms and yawned. "What's not to hate? He's cruel. He only cares for power and getting more. Much like you, I suppose."

I detested that thought. All Saxons thought we were pure evil, demons in the flesh, but we had to survive, somehow. All I'd wanted was a comfortable living for my people. "We only take from our enemies and foreigners."

He let out a low hum. "Then I reckon you're better than that git. There is such a thing as loving God too much, I learned."

My eyes narrowed as I tried to remember where I'd heard that before. "How old is this new king?"

"Too old for my tastes. About the same as you, I suppose."

"I'm not old," I grunted.

"Well, if Ecbert is sixty as he claims, he's not showing his years." The same way Ragnhild didn't look shy of forty. She'd always looked younger than Bjorn somehow, even now.

"And what strange tongues does this king speak?"

"All kinds. He's been all over the world, or so he claims. He's a bit secretive about it, but he's got this aide he taught his tongue. Can't understand a thing, save a few words." Just like her language.

"I imagine he also hates the bland food here and pays a lot for spices."

He slowly turned to look at me. "And how would you know that?"

"I just know things." It felt so good to say that to another, and not hear it said.

"That's what Ecbert tends to say." 

I snarled. Her brother had come with, once. Could it be she had more familiars that had come here? She had once described her father in much the same way. This must have been another one of her demons, and it all sounded very much like that piece of shit. The one that had her raped, the one that had made her scared of the world. If there was even the slightest chance I was right, I had to warn her.

My sons would come to avenge me, Ivar would make sure of that. And then she would follow, pregnant as she was, and I had convinced her to come. If she were to come face to face with him... 

Blind panic struck. I had to do something. Anything. He knew too much about her, he was too eager to meet her. He'd tear her to shreds. I had to save her. Whatever he'd showed me, it was nothing compared to what he'd do to her. 

I threw my head back towards the darkening skies. "Odin!" I had to try. She couldn't come here. She would fall apart, and Kattegat would fall with her. "Allfather, tell me you know of this! I have nothing to offer but my life, but I implore you, keep her home! Keep her safe!"

"What's crawled up your arse and died? No need to lose your cool, it won't bother you much longer."

"Thor! Let my sons keep her back, let them fight off this monster and never think to tell her! If that man truly is her father, let them never meet!"

"You praying or something like that?"

"Freyr! Let her see reason and stay back! She cannot hope to defend herself! Freyja, I beseech you, she is proudly calling you her mother. She has left her old family behind, and now it has come back to haunt her a second time. Save her from harm, she has been through enough. Keep her from that man who dares call himself her father." I slumped down, not knowing what else there was for me to do. I felt so useless. The gods were cruel, vicious, down to the end. She'd been right about them, as well.

They had forsaken me long before I'd forsaken them. The absence of their spirits near mine was excruciating. Would they even want me, now?

"How come you're afraid of Ecbert?" the man asked. "You sound desperate."

My voice cracked. "Because I am. I know where he is from. I know what he'll do after my death."

She'd killed her brother, poisoned him herself. Would she be able to do the same with her father? Already he seemed so much more eager than Harbard had. Gods, keep her safe. He wouldn't rest until he got his hands on her. He'd be merciless.

"And let me guess, you just do?"

"Yes." I scrambled up, trying to get as close to the man as I could. "If I ask you to deliver a message, would you?"

He glanced around, curiosity beating his desire to stay out of trouble now the guards shouted about to make camp for the night. They didn't bother with eyes on us within earshot. "What's it about?"

"I need to protect someone. My daughter."

"I thought you only had sons."

I kept back a sigh. "She married my eldest. Will you deliver it?"

"And how do you suppose I'll be able to? I can't seek someone out with these eyes."

"Then find someone who can. My son is in Repton. A crippled Viking should not be hard to find. Tell him, not to let his auntie join. Tell him it is my last wish before I die."

"His auntie? If she's your son's wife he'd be her brother, according to your logic."

"Some people just don't make sense," I snapped. I needed to know if he would help me. This was the last thing I could try to do to make it all better. If she never went off, Ecbert wouldn't find her.

"I'll consider it... If you tell me what will happen when she does come here." The Seer's words, from years back... They suddenly made sense. In the end, it all made sense. Oh, sweet Ragnhild. The gods were vicious, indeed.

"Kingdoms will be torn apart. Families will be torn asunder. And she will decide who lives, and who dies." The man turned his head around. His face showed fear. True fear, that told me he still held pagan superstitions. He knew a prophecy when he heard one, and he knew it would come true.

"Are you one of those druids me mum heard talk about?" Druids... Ragnhild had told me about them. Berserkers who lacked the fierceness of Váli but held the seidr of the Vanir. They had roamed these lands once.

"One of our wise men foretold this day would come, sixteen years ago. If she makes it to these shores..." I fed into his fear, using every trick of my voice I knew how to use.

He was a stubborn one, though. "Then why warn her, and not us?"

"She's special, my daughter. She will cut your head off for threatening her family, then cry over the blood she spilled." She loved too fiercely and cared too much. A goat could bring her to tears, and yet - oh, she was a fool. Her ideas about the world came from a time beyond war. She'd never be ready to face Ecbert. No wonder my sons had a touch of softness to them. They still believed in her air castles.

"That doesn't sound like she's a brute."

"She's not from the North. She has a tender heart, though she thinks she has hardened it. She's a fool if she thinks she'll survive coming here."

"You mean to protect her heart?"

I could hear the disbelief in his voice, smell the disrespect for me gush out of his blind eyes. "I mean to protect her heart, yes. Would you not do the same for your own daughter? Do you think us monsters who are incapable of love?"

He turned pensive once more.

"I love her as if she were my own. I saw her grow up to be a beautiful, strong-willed woman who can put men to shame with a look. I may not remember her first steps into the world, but I recall how she learned our words and our customs. I am proud she married my son and bore him children. I mean to keep her safe, even after I have died." I owed her that much, after ruining most of her life here.

"And she will tear England apart? You'd be keeping us safe, as well?"

"Her happiness is worth more to me than the loss of yours."

He saw me. His eyes pierced into my spirit once more. He knew I spoke the truth. "Then I will do my best. Repton, right? Cripple boy."

"Ivar. He must stop his auntie from coming here. Those exact words. His auntie. Otherwise, he will never believe it is a message from me."

"And does he speak our tongue as well?"

"Sistyrkin. Can you remember that? Sistyrkin Ragnhild heimvisti."

"Sistikin Rav..."

I repeated the words a few times, until I was sure the man had gotten it through his thick skull.

"Sistyrkin Ragnhild heimvisti," he repeated for the third time without fail. "What does it mean?"

"Auntie must stay home." As the words left my lips, I felt my heart send them out to the gods once more.

"You are a strange man, Ragnar Shaggypants." 

"Promise me you will try your best."

"I will. As soon as you're in the hands of king Aelle."

I sat down again, praying Ivar hadn't left yet. If her father was as cruel as she had led me to believe, I wondered if Ivar was even still alive. Ecbert could just set an example. Then again, he wanted Ragnhild to come here. Sending Ivar off was the only way anyone would know about my death for certain.

If she made it here, if they met... I couldn't imagine how bad it would get. She thought he was dead, that he could never reach her again. Thinking she had killed him had brought her peace, and the distance between them... The centuries she thought kept them apart... Oh, my sweet Ragnhild.

Families would be torn asunder. If she met up with her father, whatever chances there were of her and Bjorn making it work would disappear. They could not withstand a tragedy such as this, not as they were when Bjorn left. The boys would pick her side, and Bjorn would stand against them all. And then... Kingdoms would be torn apart. My kingdom. My legacy. And Ragnhild would be forced to make a choice. Somehow, that was how it would all play out.

I smirked as I thought back to other prophecies. It seemed after all this time, she turned out to be a princess after all. Hailing from a distant land, no less. It probably didn't even exist yet. The Seer had been right, after all. The gods were watching over us all.

That girl had been nothing but trouble since I met her. She had guided all of our fates, just like the Seer had foretold. Ragnhild... Maria... I looked forward to meeting Odin and ask him all about her. He must have been keeping an eye on her for a long time, if she were truly from beyond this world. He knew, and he would have heard my words. He would keep her safe.

"What are you so happy about, all of a sudden?" She had given me back my faith, somehow. If I could believe she was from the future, sent here to decide the fate of all the Viking, the gods were sure to have had a hand in it. They had seen fit to test me so many times, but now... Now I could die with a smile on my face. I'd give these Saxons a piece of their Hell before I would die.

"Because I can see what a glorious future awaits my children. And how they will squeal when they hear how the old boar suffered."


	21. Delayed Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 03-05-815

The hall brimmed with excitement, filled with warriors from all over Scandinavia come to join the army. The twins were off getting into trouble, but Freydis sat with me, enjoying the music. Sigurd had taken out his oud, and some other men were playing the flute and a pair of drums. I enjoyed myself, my foot tapping along with the rhythm, forgetting for just a moment about all the plotting that had happened lately. 

I knew we'd have to get going, soon. Lagertha had been pissed off at Ubbe over leaving her out of the decision, but he chose to ignore it. He thought he was still infallible as a son of Ragnar. A swift departure would be best for all of us, but without Bjorn to join up, the boys lacked an experienced leader. I was loath to take the position for myself. 

Suddenly, knives flashed everywhere. Someone grabbed me from behind and held a knife to my throat, the same as Sigurd. His eyes shot from me to Freydis and back, but he didn't dare move around too much.

"My mom is going to get you for this," Freydis said calmly. 

I shushed her, not wanting to invoke the wrath of the person holding me. I wanted to hold her close to me, but the man holding on to me wouldn't let me, twisting my arm on my back. I couldn't see his face, nor had I heard him speak, but I would find out who he was. No one came between me and my children. 

Ivar's crawling sticks tapped on the wooden floor of the hall. I couldn't see what was happening, but it was sure to have something to do with Lagertha. Was he foolishly trying to get revenge at a time like this, in front of our allies? The silence in the hall told me nothing. 

Sigurd saw what happened, but his face was contorted in anger and resentment. That look was commonplace whenever he saw Ivar acting out, but that much I'd deduced. Was Ubbe held and knife-point, too? Or was this just Ivar? Where had he gotten the men to help him in the first place? The man holding Sigurd back was a stranger to me. He must've bribed an ally.

Nothing but a soft murmur rose from the crowd behind me, pierced by the steady tapping of Ivar's spikes. Freydis waited patiently as if nothing was wrong at all. Perhaps taking a page from her book would be best. I forced myself to be as calm as her. 

Shadows clouded the rays of light entering through the double doors. Whatever Ivar hoped to achieve, he'd fucked up. Or, it was his back-up. Deep breaths. The boys weren't that clever, nor that stupid. Besides, the spikes kept thudding into the floor. That alone would earn Ivar a scolding from me, indoor floors were expensive and he was ruining them for no good reason.

The doors burst open, Bjorn striding forth. He kept his eyes in front of him, focused on what happened behind me.

Relief washed over me, earning me a jerk at my arm. I pushed my elbow into his gut instinctively. The man grunted, but he tried to keep it in. The knife found my throat again quick enough. Its kiss felt cold against my skin.

"You think I won't find out who you are?" I whispered. "My daughter sees your face. My husband saw you, too. How much longer do you think you'll live?" He twisted my arm even further, almost pushing me into the blade he held at my throat. His grasp on the blade loosened. What an idiot. 

Ivar's tapping stopped. Bjorn's footsteps were audible now, his entourage had stopped moving. I could barely make out Hvitserk from the corner of my eye, but he didn't see me. Only the crackling fire fought the silence. 

Bjorn made full use of the acoustics in the hall. His voice resonated through the air as if he stood in front of me. "If you kill her, my brothers, you'll have to kill me, too."

"Maybe we should," Ivar responded. One tap rang out. 

"Shut up," Ubbe hissed. "She killed our mother." He was involved, too. I shouldn't feel this surprised. After all the fighting we'd done over Margrethe, he was lashing out against me just as much. 

"I know. You want revenge. So would I." The promise behind Bjorn's words brought a chill to my spine. Bjorn had a lot fewer qualms about killing his brothers than I'd thought. He took a deep breath. "But more importantly, we have to avenge our father. That is why I came back. And that is what we're going to do." 

A sword fell to the floor and tensions in the hall fell away. Ivar let out a grunt, then stalked off. The blade across my throat disappeared. I grabbed Freydis in a tight hug, needing the comfort more for myself than her. She was calm as ever. I wondered if anything could spook her.

"It's okay," I told her. She wrapped her arms around my waist, head resting in between my breasts. "You're so much braver than I am. I'm proud of you."

"Mom! Are you alright? What happened?" The twins came rushing at me, wanting to make sure Freydis and I were okay. 

"We're fine, no one got hurt. Your father made it here in time." I nodded towards Sigurd, who rubbed his throat. He nodded back with reluctance.

He hadn't known about any of this. Ubbe and Ivar had conspired together, without anyone knowing. I'd have to keep my eye on them. Bjorn would not appreciate any dissent in the ranks.

"We weren't let back in the hall, and then we figured something was going on. We ran into dad on the beach, and told him you and Freydis were locked inside," Thormund said. 

"You have done very well. I'm proud of you." I hugged them both tightly. I could only imagine the confusion and fear they must've felt after not being let back into the hall, and then the relief when they saw Bjorn at the beach. 

"Would you mind giving me a moment with your mother?" Bjorn said. He sounded calm as ever, his hands resting on their shoulders. "I need to speak to her." 

I got up and told the children to stay inside. The twins fussed over Freydis as if she had been crying all the while. 

Bjorn took me outside. There weren't any new scars on his face. The way he walked told me he felt confident in what he'd just done. Adapting to what he'd come home to just minutes before, hearing a summary of events from the twins, he was amazing. Few people would've been able to adjust that fast, or with such grace. It hurt to realize he knew exactly what he'd been doing, all these years. He could be just as calculating as me.

He headed to the beach, where his entire fleet lay in the fjord. I'd never seen this many ships gathered in one place, and more were still to come. It must've been close to 150. He watched them unload their treasures, my eyes avoiding the throngs of slave girls they'd taken with them. Arms crossed, he watched their progress like a hawk. He'd already taken charge, making sure everyone knew what to do and when.

"You were right about the Mediterranean. I had to make some tough calls, but we made it through without too many losses. And I can't deny you were a large part of that." 

My heart sang, knowing my hopes weren't in vain. This was why I'd gone through all this trouble. "Thank you. I was worried you might not heed my warnings."

A rueful smile came to his face. "Don't thank me yet. Did you have anything to do with Lagertha taking over? She's not the only one who got her revenge." His face was still as stone, eyes looking down at mine. Was he upset over me hogging the kills again?

I stared back, unflinching in my resolve. "All she asked from me was to keep silent and not react. In exchange, she promised our children and your brothers would be spared." He gave me a curious look. "Though I might have mentioned something about a cabbage."

"Did it help?" At his words, I took a deep breath. He didn't begrudge me anything, he must have suffered under Aslaug's yoke more than I realized. I was sure part of him was glad to see Aslaug gone, as well. 

"A lot," I lied, glancing over to see if he knew about Vinh as well. His eyes focused on the fjord again, he was somewhere else entirely. I wanted to know what was going on inside of his head, but I didn't dare ask. It wasn't my place to ask, not anymore.

"It's been a long time coming. Are you satisfied now?" He turned to me, his eyes taking me in as if he could read the answers in my eyes. 

"Yes."

"Hmm." He stretched out his back and shoulders, pulling his shirt tight over his muscles. He was torturing me. He shouldn't come in here with such bravado, saving me from a knife at my throat, only to be this obvious about how well-shaped his body was. "That's one less thing to worry about, though I am surprised Lagertha didn't kill the boys." Perhaps I'd read too much into his threat, or he had just said it to help diffuse the situation. It could very well have been a bluff, for all I knew. I couldn't read him like before. 

How had my fears pushed him off like this? At times it all still felt so familiar between us, and other times it was like he was a stranger to me. We could still be friendly and talk, but it always ended in shouting and accusations. I never knew how or when Bjorn would show me his other side. 

I tore my eyes from his chest. "She didn't need to do that. Apparently, she knew more about me than I thought. She knows where I come from." Bjorn's face remained passive. "You might have wanted to mention that somewhere in the past twelve years." Only the smallest amount of hatred bubbled up. I wanted to touch him, above all else. If only for a second, and then another. And another.

"She told me the winter before Ragnar left." She'd kept it to herself for a while, despite what she told me. If he found out after Kol I could see why he had kept silent. "Are you mad at me for not telling you?" 

"Only a little."

He avoided my eyes. "Then I suppose I have to be thankful. I know it was wrong of me to keep it to myself." 

I couldn't contain a snicker. I loved throwing his words back at him. "Don't thank me yet. I want to come to England." Instead of trying to talk me out of it, Bjorn remained silent, his eyes returning to the sea. I was sure he would start to protest, wanting me to stay home and take care of the children. "You don't seem surprised," I said after a moment. 

"After Paris, you never wanted to join a raid again. But if anyone can help me strategize, it would be you. It'd be good to have someone the boys listen to with us. Hvitserk almost got himself killed when he got distracted by food, during the fighting no less."

I'd set that boy straight. "I don't plan on tagging along for advice and playing their babysitter. I want to fight." 

Bjorn laughed out loud. It held something terrifying, making me wonder what I was getting myself into in the first place. "You don't know how to fight. Hitting a target is not the same as being able to fight in a battle."

"I can do more than you think. You've never seen me try."

That twinkle in his eye. I'd missed it so badly. It challenged me in all the right ways. "And what will happen if you die?"

I forced myself to keep calm. This wasn't our banter from past days, this was about our future. "Then you get to spend more time with the children. But I can promise you, I will not die. I will not hesitate, and I will kill. You know I can do it."

He cocked his head, nodding in my direction. "Why now?" 

Because I'm pregnant and want to have one last chance at making our marriage work. "Because I owe my life to Ragnar. Because I want to see other places than Kattegat before I die. And because I want to." 

Bjorn sighed. "At least if you die, we won't have to go through a divorce. There's not enough time to negotiate everything, and I don't want to have to fight about it when I'm in England."

Exactly what I'd hoped for, on both accounts. He'd seen the crowded streets for what they were, and after his display of power, no one would protest his leadership. "When we are in England," I corrected.

He turned serious, looking down at me as if I'd acted like a child. "When we are over there you will listen to me. I cannot have you running interference on my decisions. I will be the leader, and you will respect that. If not, I'll put you on guard duty on the boats." 

That was more than fair. "I understand. I won't be your wife over there."

Bjorn frowned for a split second, then relaxed. "So, the twins get to go raiding this year after all. What about Freydis?"

"They're not coming. Your mother will keep them safe." 

His voice grew louder. "So you're not even discussing this. Don't I get a say? You know the twins will resent you for not bringing them." 

I shrugged, then dared to take a glance at the fleet again. The women were all off, to the markets. Had I been sold off like that at one point - I hadn't. I had remained here because Ragnar thought I could be of use to him like Athelstan had. The gods meant for me to stay in Kattegat. "I don't want to have to be a mother when I fight. If they can't handle it like adults, they're not ready to join, anyway."

Bjorn put his hand on my shoulder. The warmth nearly made me gasp. "That's not what you would have said a few years ago." It was torture. Unknowingly, he begged me to lean into his touch. His hands would slide to the side of my face, a finger tracing my collarbone and then his lips would find mine.

I begged for it to be true.

My eyes drifted off to the fjord. The ships swayed on the waves as a soft breeze passed over the beach. "A few years ago, I didn't treat them like adults."

"What changed?" His fingers drifted to the skin on my neck. 

I froze for a second, then turned to face him. Bjorn didn't lie. He didn't know. It broke my heart to have to be the one to tell him. "You left us."

Ice slid through my veins. As much as I wanted to fling myself at him, he'd hurt me. He'd all but abandoned the children. 

Bjorn cleared his throat, removing his hand from my neck. It felt cold, the wind biting into the bared skin. "I know it must have been hard on them. And you." 

I hadn't expected him to say something like that. Even so, I took it to be a good sign. I should have stuck him on a boat for weeks on end sooner. Being on a ship for that long, Bjorn must've realized how much Hvitserk had relied on me over the years. He knew how badly the boys had leaned on me, and, how easily Bjorn had cast aside that responsibility as soon as he moved out.

"We survived. That's what matters." It sounded like the thing to say to keep to the moral high ground. I didn't believe it for a second. I'd raged against Ragnar for doing the same.

"Do they know you're coming along?"

"I'll talk to them tonight, they're expecting us to get back in the hall and be divorced. The children can decide where they want to live after we're back from England." Who knew what could change out there.

"Hmm. Makes sense. You don't sound bitter anymore. About the divorce."

"I had time to think." Time to practice, too, to get used to feeling alone. "All I've ever wanted was to make them happy. Us being stuck in this situation isn't making them happy, or me. I'm sorry for being selfish for so long." Acting resentful about it would only hurt my chances of winning him back, I figured. At least, for now, I had to act like I accepted our decision. 

Bjorn gave me a rare smile. "Come on, let's get back. I need a drink." We got up and walked back to the hall, both in silence. My bones ached to touch him. Before when he came back, we'd fuck each other's brains out. He'd get to decide what we did when he left, and upon returning he would surrender to me. 

I'd tie him up and never let him go. I'd rediscover every inch of his skin, tease him until he wouldn't be able to hold back and fought the ropes that kept him in place. 

"Auntie!" Hvitserk waited for me outside, surprisingly cheerful for someone who just found out his mother died.

I smiled, happy to stay outside for a moment so the blush on my face wouldn't get noticed. "When are you ever going to learn I'm your sister?" I asked as I hugged him back. He smelled like brackish water and salt. I'd air out his furs before we left again.

"Never. I like how you've grown to hate it." He released me and walked me in, grabbing some ale for me along the way. "I brought back some of the weird food we came across. I have no idea what it is, but I'd sure like to know what you can make of it."

"If you drop it off tomorrow, I'll make us dinner. So tell me, how was it?"

He still shedded a few patches of loose skin from having been burned by the sun. I'd warned him, but he'd been stubborn again. Just because they couldn't see it didn't mean skin cancer wasn't a threat. "Hot, mostly. We only got to one city before we learned father died and we went back."

"How did you know?" I asked as I cocked my head. 

"Bjorn and I both heard his voice, at the same time. A murder of crows flew overhead." That sounded like Odin. Bjorn and Hvitserk coming back in time was another sign from the gods, though I'd never tell a soul. 

If the gods were capable of traveling such a distance in a day, they were worthy of the stories we told of them. It meant they wanted me there, too. It meant they still needed me to save the Viking. They weren't playing around, nor were they likely to forget about me. My brush with them in Uppsala still made me feel uneasy every time I ran into that strange feather.

"Have you heard what's been happening here?"

"Pretty much. The twins told us most of it when they found us. Sigurd filled in the rest just now. It was really fortunate you were out at the range when it happened." Hvitserk was too bad at laying on the sarcasm to have come up with that notion himself. 

"Did you also hear what brought me to go there?"

"Sigurd implied a few things, but he didn't want to tell in front of the twins."

Harald and Halfdan approached us, no doubt wanting to say hi. I'd have to cut this short. "Which is for the best. Come by early tomorrow, I'll tell you before dinner." Not to mention it would buy me some time. My web of lies was expanding fast these last few weeks.

"Ragnhild! You look more beautiful each time I lay eyes on you," Harald said. I smiled at him, glad to see he was unharmed. That meant he had no reason to not join to England. I'd want to keep an eye on him. He kissed me on the cheeks, the bristles of his mustache scraping over my face. 

"Hello, Harald. Still not king of Norway?" 

"Don't tell me you want me to achieve that, too, before I can ask you to marry me."

I smiled, then racked my brain. Had he seen his princess in the thick of the crowd here? "I'll have to achieve some goals of my own, for that to be possible. And you might have to take a bath before you consider making me such a proposal." 

After Siggy's outburst, all sorts of men had suddenly shown interest in me. Harald was just the latest to join the queue, though he didn't seem serious about it. Having our dirty air out in public had opened hunting season for those in search of a trophy wife. With Bjorn back, they would grow more cautious again, at least until the divorce was finalized.

"How about you, Halfdan? Still more interested in raiding than marriage?" 

"I don't understand women. And I don't care to. I'll choose a battle over them every time. Though I must say you look rather radiant today." Harald gave his brother a strange look. "What? It's what women like to hear. Helga told me."

I always blush after someone holds a blade to my throat," I quipped, hoping to draw attention away from my appearance. It was important no one knew of my pregnancy before we left for England. Bjorn would tie me to a tree in the forest if that meant I stayed here.

"Well, you can't blame the boys for wanting revenge. No doubt you'd have shamed them into running away for ten years had they not kept you sitting down like that." If only. Ten years without Ivar sounded like bliss. I hadn't seen him since before. 

I'd need to have a stern talk with Ubbe before we left, that was certain. He should've known better than "One revenge at a time, though," I said, getting affirmative nods. 

"I imagine we'll sail shortly, with this many warriors already gathered. I'm sorry we can't stay here longer, I'd love to catch up with you," Harald said. 

I perked up, standing a bit taller. "As a matter of fact, I'm joining the raid." 

Hvitserk choked on his ale, but Harald and Halfdan just smiled. "What? You never go raiding," Hvitserk said. 

Harald grinned, already thinking of how this would benefit him. "Trust me, boy. If your sister joins us, we'll be done in no time. Surely you must have heard of what she achieved in Paris."

"I know she helped out Floki, but -"

"Helped out?" Halfdan snorted. "She was the one who invented those trebuchets. Don't let Floki tell you otherwise. I've heard the stories, she knows things no one else does. I can still remember the day we first talked in private. She just knew me. It was terrifying. Did you really think all those clever ideas and lucky guesses were Bjorn's?" 

I had to blush, happy someone noticed my influence. Bjorn was eager to count my victories with his. Getting some acknowledgment for my hard work was the least I could expect.

Harald clapped Halfdan on his back. "My brother might not understand women, but Ragnhild is beyond any comprehension. Any man should count his blessings having had the honor of hearing her talk of battle. And now she will finally join us." The flattery was obvious, but I could easily make use of it for my purposes. 

Now was the time to strike. "I'm glad to hear you say that because I have a favor to ask of you. I have a feeling that if I'm on the same boat as Bjorn, we might not both make it across the sea. Would it be possible for me to sail with you?"

"It would be my honor. If you also happen to need a tent to sleep in..." 

Nasty little creep. "I've got that covered, thank you."

Hvitserk still tried to recover from the shock. His eyes searched my face for clues that it was all a joke. "Are you serious about this?"

"I am. I've already informed Bjorn, and the children can stay with Lagertha."

"But if you die..."

"Then I die. But I won't."

"Don't worry about her, Hvitserk. If anyone can tell death to fuck off, it's her," Harald smirked. He wasn't the only one who loved the surprise and confusion on Hvitserk's face. Halfdan grinned too, as did I.

"I'm glad to see at least one person happy to see me come with. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to take my daughter home." Freydis was almost falling asleep at a table. I said goodbye and walked up to her, but before I could reach her, Bjorn took her into his arms. After he came back from a raid, he was always more willing to take care of the children. He caught my gaze and nodded slightly, telling me he would bring her home. 

I smiled, happy to see him caring for our daughter. He'd been gentle with me, too, out on the beach. If only he could always be that kind and caring. Maybe he'd listen to me then, and finally, he would let me explain how I felt, and why. 

"Auntie," Ubbe whispered. He put a hand on my shoulder. "Can we talk?"

"I was actually thinking of calling it a night." I turned around, if only to see Bjorn walk away with our daughter on his arm. I wanted to feel safe like that again. Just a little longer. I had to keep faith.

I had to stop torturing myself. There was every chance that Bjorn and I wouldn't work out. Either way, if I wanted to give it one last shot, I'd have to try a different approach. Pining for him hadn't worked the past three years, it wouldn't suddenly work. I'd have to step up my game, and the sooner I started, the better.

Ubbe looked grave. "Is you lying to us important enough? You said you had nothing to do with our mother's death."

I raised an eyebrow, not happy about the amount of lip he gave me. After his stunt earlier this evening he should be apologizing. "And what is it you think I lied about?"

"You don't know which lie I found out about? What else is there?" He grabbed hold of my wrist, to the point I couldn't move my arm.

I tried to jank free, but Ubbe held on tight. He had more strength in his hands than me. I kept the struggle from prying eyes, but I wasn't happy about it. "I keep a lot of secrets, from and for a lot of people. You yourself are one of them. Yes, you will have to specify what you think I lied about." 

His eyes narrowed, then he smiled. "You used us. You played us for fools and we believed you. When Ragnar showed up, you told us you used us, so we could learn how to play the game. And after our mother died, you told us you would never play the game on those you love. It took me a while to realize, but that can't both be true. You just told us what you needed us to hear."

"And when you found out you decided to have someone put a knife to my throat? In front of my six-year-old daughter?"

He pulled me close, his hissing voice drumming down from above. "Don't act like it's not the same thing."

"It isn't," I hissed back. "In exchange for not interfering, I bought the lives and safety of my children, and you and your brothers. Lagertha could have forced me to help her, but she didn't. Whereas you decided that me telling you a lie, any lie, was worth risking my life. Tell me, how is that the same?"

"You should have told us."

"You should've been able to figure out what happened, and why I did what I did. You know what I hold most dear. You know I'd do anything to keep you safe. Or do you think that was a lie as well? Are you really that angry with me for saving your life?"

He let go of me. His face dripped in pure disgust. "How could you. You owed mother so much. How could you choose Lagertha over my mother?"

I closed the distance between us. He had to hear me, and he had to understand this wasn't a conversation to"I owed them both. More than you will ever understand, or I will be able to explain. Had Lagertha failed, I'd not have interfered with Aslaug killing her. Then Bjorn would be angry at me for not interfering. Sometimes not choosing a side is the best way to survive."

"You're a coward. What do you know of fighting?" 

My eyes hardened. "Don't disrespect me. You may be angry with me, and I can't blame you for that. But don't you ever dare be rude to me like that. Do not underestimate my skills or my love for you. I thought I taught you that when you were six."

"Is everything alright?" Lagertha said, her voice clear as crisp winter air. 

I turned around and saw her standing rather close. "I think you should ask Ubbe that question." 

He grunted but didn't respond. His eyes spewed fire at me. 

Lagertha smiled pleasantly. A bit too pleasantly. She needed me to stop acting suspiciously. "I just wanted to let you know I've prepared beds for the children. They can sleep here. Did you have a chance to speak to Bjorn yet?"

I returned her pleasant smile, ignoring Ubbe. "I did. He knows he can't stop me. I'll be traveling with Harald."

"What? I thought Harald was joining us to go to England," Ubbe said. 

"He is. And so am I." His jaw dropped, unable to speak. "As I said, do not underestimate me." 

Lagertha smiled and walked off again. I wanted to turn around as well, but Ubbe grabbed hold of my wrist again. I looked at his hand. 

He pulled it off. "You can't be serious about this."

"I am. Is it such a strange thought I might want revenge for Ragnar as well?"

"But you're..."

"Twice your age, and more experienced in war strategy than even your father was. If not for the children, he'd have dragged me to every raid he went on."

"For your sake, I hope you're right." Ubbe walked away pissed, not happy with what I'd told him. I couldn't care less. I had to have a serious talk with the twins before they heard the news from someone else.


	22. Sanctity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 05-05-815

Ubbe made a mistake. I watched it happen, and I was unable to do a thing. Bjorn put a hand on my shoulder, the other leaning on a stick, feeling the same. For the past ten years, we'd taken care of him, it was like watching our son get married. But neither of us felt happy.

"I do," Margrethe said. 

It was done. Ubbe was now a married man, and I'd gotten a sister-in-law.

"How did she even get free?" Bjorn asked.

"He freed her himself, about a moon ago. Proposed right after. Your mother shouldn't have allowed this." 

Bjorn let out a sigh. We watched Ubbe and Hvitserk run around in the bridal race, it was close. Margrethe cheered them both on. "You'll set her straight." The way he said it told me he didn't consider this a real problem. He thought it was one of the lesser things I could take care of, leaving him to rule the kingdom at large. Except that he wasn't acting king, not anymore. Bjorn had been knocked down a peg, as well. 

I looked beside me, seeing the foxtails of his cloak dangle close to the ground. They still looked clean. "Before or after I help kill Aelle?"

"She'll be around for a while. You'll figure it out."

"It's becoming rather easy for you to put this kind of thing in my lap. What if I don't want to teach her what she needs to know? Why not leave her to Lagertha?"

"Because mother would kill her. You will give the girl a fighting chance."

The way he spoke of her, he thought of her as a child. At least he hadn't fallen prey to her charms as the other sons of Ragnar had. "I might just whisper in the right ear." I didn't like him underestimating me, but I could hardly tell him about how I'd taken care of Ari. It would cost me too much, for too little gain.

"Astrid?" 

As if I'd ever want anything to do with her. She was barely able to keep up as it was, she wasn't ready to take out someone who was officially part of the family. "I don't trust the women you slept with." 

Bjorn stepped away without a word. Shit. I should be giving it a chance, not make it worse. It had slipped out. I watched him go, lamenting all decisions I'd made the past few weeks. There were a lot.

Ubbe came up to me, looking proud as a lion. 

My face lit up. Seeing him happy after all the fighting we'd done was an unexpected treat. We still had plenty to talk about. "My sweet Ubbe." I let him take me in his arms. "Your mother would be glad to see at least one of you married." 

He held onto my arms. "And you?"

"Ubbe..." I didn't want to say it out loud.

"Auntie."

"This is your day, not mine. Go kiss your beautiful bride, you deserve a day without me telling you what to do."

"Those are far and few in between," he admitted. 

I stood on my toes to kiss him on the cheek. He still had to bend over a bit, the brat. "I'll see you at the feast." 

Ubbe turned back to the other guests that had come out. Margrethe rushed up to Ubbe and shot me a wary look. Margrethe was not stable enough to have as a wife. I knew what it meant to marry into this family, and it had been hard enough when Ragnar was still here. I made my way to Lagertha, who looked how I felt.

"Doing anything tomorrow night?" she asked.

"Getting drunk with you, I imagine."

"Mind if Torvi joins?"

"Not at all. I like to hear my opinion on this echoing back to me."

Finally, Lagertha looked up. Ever since Bjorn had returned, she had been able to let her guard down. Her face was less worried now, and her age didn't show as much. "Then why the sadness?"

I closed my eyes, trying to itch the ache in my heart. It was useless. My fingers twisted my ring over and over. "It's... Kol was supposed to be buried on the other side of that hill."

"Kol? I thought you got over that."

"I can't let go. Bjorn was supposed to show me where he got buried, so I could finally say goodbye to him. But when he wanted to dig up the bones, they were gone. Aslaug was sure she buried him there, we had a huge fight. She swore she left them there, she was close to hysteria. We never found the bones. Someone must've taken them." I kept my eyes on Hvitserk, who was talking to Sigurd about something serious. If it mattered to him, it mattered to me. Neither of them looked away, not for a second. They were scheming something.

"What? Why would anyone do that?" Lagertha asked.

Her questions annoyed me. I had avenged my son, that's all that mattered. His spirit was set free. I didn't want to think about this again. It could only serve to distract me. "At first I thought it was someone who wanted to blackmail us, but we've never heard about it, at all." 

"Then what do you think happened?"

"I... I'm not sure. The gods have been..."

"Ragnhild, look at me. Are you doubting them again?" Her eyes pierced mine. 

I hardened my resolve. "No. Anything but. They are sending me signs like never before."

I wouldn't say the words out loud. The gods might just have taken away his bones, and I feared coming across them in England, somehow. They would come to haunt me, and I would curse the day I found them back. I would break, that day. I couldn't afford to break like that ever again. 

"Does Bjorn know? Of your fears?"

"What do you think?" It came our harder than I'd meant to. "We haven't had time to talk beyond me going to England."

"I think that you should pay a visit to the Seer." That wasn't a bad idea. "Why not head there now? You can take one of the horses, you'll be back in time for the feast."

"Thank you, I appreciate it." 

She ushered me off, walking me to the horses. She and Astrid would ride back on the same horse, she told me as she helped me get on. "He shies to the left, but otherwise he's gentle as can be." 

I knew. There had been countless times I'd ridden Pooh through the woods, and even now he was eager to get off. Only this time I didn't have my bow and arrow with me.

"I'll be back in time for the feast." I rode off, not looking back to see if people were surprised to see me riding off to the east. The Seer had been invited as was customary, but as was also customary, he had politely declined. He didn't like people asking him all kinds of things 'now they ran into him', as they put it. I understood, it happened to me all the time as well.

The Seer still hadn't heard of cleaning his house, but he was in. The strings of bones were starting to turn black, though I couldn't tell if it was from age or grime. Still, not a single spider had dared come in here to make a web. 

"Ah, the Vessel has granted me a visit. It's been too long." He sat up on his bed, groaning at the movement. How long had it been since those furs had seen the light of day?

I entered, warily placing my feet as I waded through the stacks of knickknacks on the ground. "You're hardly one to invite me over for a cup of tea. How have you been?"

"I fare well when the people prosper. And prosper they have... You have made some fortunate calls since you came back from Uppsala."

A wan smile came to my face. Back then I'd been worried over losing Bjorn, too. The gods had brought us back together then, but it seemed even they couldn't make my marriage work. My fears had come between us nonetheless. "Only three years until the next one." I wondered if the priests would offer the honors to me, again. I didn't feel like sacrificing so many animals, that one goat had been enough to last me a lifetime. 

"Mortals are always in such a hurry. To grow up, to get married, to die..." My eyes lit up. If I was here for one thing, why not ask about a second as well?

I took the time to take off my cloak and sat down at the edge of the bed. I rolled it around my arm. "You were missed at the ceremony."

The Seer wasn't impressed. "Why bother speaking of it? You think it won't last."

"Do you?"

"It is not for me to have an opinion." His creaky voice had grown worse over the winter, but he refused any help I ever offered. Perhaps some honey left at his door would find a way into his kitchen, nonetheless.

"I admit, I have come across a puzzle I can't solve. I lack pieces, and I don't even know if it can be completed." Or if I wanted to. My bloodlust hadn't gone. Seeing Kol's bones would trigger all kinds of things, and none of it would be good. 

"You speak in riddles. That is my job, or so I've heard."

"I am wary of your reaction. You told me not to bring it up again." 

His face fell to a scowl. The scars and folds lined up into a gruesome version of his face. "Your vegetable."

"Kol. His bones. They have been taken from his resting place."

"How can your son possibly rest, when you keep him alive in your mind? He will not find rest, not here in Kattegat."

"Then his bones are not here?" A shimmer of hope cut me to shreds. Where could they be? Had someone found them by accident? Were they dug up by wolves? Would I ever lay eyes on them?

I looked down at my hands. The tiny fragments of his skull could've faded already. Aslaug never told me if she'd covered his face. What if he'd gone to dust? Then all this worrying was for nothing. 

"Ragnhild. Do not press me on this. I refuse to answer, as I threatened to do before. What good is a threat if I do not live up to it?"

"I should've known better than to come to you for solace." I meant to get up, but the Seer reached out to grab my arm. The gesture alone was enough to make me freeze. The Seer never touched anyone, aside from the hand-licking.

His raspy voice filled the whole cabin. It was all I could hear, pounding in my head. "You keep your eyes on the past. Look beyond the horizon."

My lips formed a whisper. "To England?"

"It has already been foretold. I need not speak of it, but I need remind you. I told your husband many calamities will follow from Ragnar's return, but you will cause a fair few yourself."

I didn't dare look up and face him. The Seer had never been this intense before. "What have you seen? What awaits me?"

"It is not for me to say. We all play our parts."

"You... You want to, though. You know, but the gods don't allow you to speak of it. Then tell me, will I meet my fate there? They have sent me so many messages." My hand drifted off to my stomach, the other still in his clutches. I was scared of him and wanted to be closer to him at the same time. 

"The gods want you to stay, and they want you to go."

The gods had promised me I would be happy here, but this was not happiness. I needed Bjorn, I needed him to help me get through this pregnancy. "They want me to live, and they want me to die. They want me to fight, and to surrender. After all these years it still makes no sense to me."

"You will find what you want, and what you need. But every choice you make has a consequence. Some things you already have set in motion and will unfold once you arrive."

"Seer... What of my child? I'm pregnant, it's Bjorn's. Will it be safe, with all the fighting?"

"With you there, your children will live. Even those who were born from Aslaug's womb." My boys, my little sprout... We'd make it out alive. As long as I was careful we'd pull through. 

My voice started to break. "And what about him? Will I - will I succeed? Will he come back to me?"

The Seer grinned wide, cackling at my question. "He will crawl on his knees, begging you to come back to him." 

It would be worth it. It would all be worth it if I got to have my husband back, and our son would be born healthy. I would make him understand, I'd get through to him. "Thank you. Oh gods, thank you." He didn't stop me when I got up this time. I licked his hand with glee, happy for the glad tidings he'd given me. I could weather the storm and get through this.

"One more thing... You will stand to lose it all. Make the right call, Freyjasdottir. Or they all will." 

I wrapped my cloak around myself again, pulling it tight. Its warmth couldn't stave off a chill running down my spine. The Seer had never given me such a foreboding prophecy before. Without a further word, I left for the feast. I would make it. The boys would, and my child. That was all I could ask for. With over 6000 men and women with us, we'd be in and out fast. I wouldn't hesitate.

The feast was at Ubbe's house, as Lagertha was still pissed about him freeing Margrethe in the first place. Since he was officially out of the line of succession he hadn't been able to provide for a dowry aside from the standard fare, but she would be well taken care of all the same. I didn't like it, but she was part of the family now.

Inside, Hvitserk was already pouring out drinks. I made it just in time for the speech Ubbe was about to give. He shot me a questioning look at my late arrival, but I ignored it, taking my place in between Lagertha and Bjorn. I wondered what that was all about, but first Ubbe had to profess his undying love.

"Margrethe," he sighed. "I have had the honor to be present at many weddings, and every time I wondered what it could be like to love a woman so deeply that men would spout all sorts of poetic nonsense in front of their friends and family, only to embarrass themselves. And now it's me who stands here, knowing exactly what it is. I don't care how you have lived your life up until now, because we're starting a brand new one together, as of today. I love you with all of my heart. Skol!"

"Skol!" We all raised our glasses, but I was careful not to drink too much.

"How was it?" Lagertha asked as the buzz of conversation took off around us. Astrid sat on her other side, trying to listen in. She'd hear eventually, but I didn't feel the need to share just yet. The Seer had told me more than I had asked. I'd have to let his words sink in a bit. It had been good to see him before I'd gone off, but he'd shown some unusual behavior. It seemed even he was affected by Ragnar's return. 

"Short and sweet. Ubbe did well." It had been terrible, compared to what Bjorn had said at our wedding. He didn't seem too preoccupied with comparing the two events. Usually, weddings made men grow a tad softer as they remembered their own. 

"You know what I mean," Lagertha insisted.

"It's rude to ask, you know that." She huffed and dropped it, turning to Astrid instead.

"Will you tell me?" Bjorn asked. "Mother did promise something big, which is why you are sitting there in the first place."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering how he could be this pretentious about sitting at a seat of honor. There were hardly ten people here, everyone had a seat of honor. "Nothing big and shiny." I reached over for some bread, but Sigurd beat me to it. He threw me a piece, almost knocking over my cup. I strummed my fingers on the table, holding back from saying a word. This wasn't my house.

Bjorn reached out in front of me, blocking my personal space. He meant it as an insult no doubt, but it distracted me for all the wrong reasons. I'd get him back. It was just a matter of time, the Seer had told me so. "What did you even ask?"

"It doesn't matter. He refused to answer. He reminded me of some old prophecies that are still waiting to be fulfilled." 

Bjorn gave me a calculated look. His face this close to mine distracted me. His voice was the bare wisp of a whisper. "Like the big one?" He pulled back his arm, a chunk of meat in his bare hand. Disgusting.

The words caught in my throat. He smelled clean. Had he dressed up like this for me? Who else could he be wooing? "I don't know. I'll have to think on it, it was a lot to take in."

"Anything about the raid?"

"Vague promises."

"You're keeping something from me."

Rolling my eyes, I knew I had to give him something. "The children will be fine. All of them." 

I stole a glance at Sigurd, who was stuffing his face with pork until he caught me staring. "Bwahw?" I raised an eyebrow, and he swallowed. "What? Is there grease on my chin?"

"Among other things," I sighed. I wasn't in the mood for a feast or forced smiles. At least the twins were having the time of their lives, drinking ale with Floki. One menacing look from me told him they would not get a second cup. Helga had gone off with Tanaruz, again. I couldn't get a read on either of them. At least the table wasn't even more crowded than it had been before. 

"You went to the Seer," Sigurd noted. His eyes shot to Bjorn, then back at me. "You got this sad and happy look. That disturbing?"

I would love to tell him everything, but I had to keep the pregnancy to myself. Sigurd would tell others to keep me from joining up. "Can you pass me the onions?" 

Sigurd knew a change of subject when I threw one at him. He shrugged and passed me the bowl.

"So, when are you getting married?" Bjorn asked him. The boy nearly choked on his pork. Just before Ragnar had returned he had told me of his curiosity towards men. Bjorn laughed it off, missing the look Sigurd threw me. I had kept his secret, as I always told him I would.

"Oh, give me a break," I told him. "You were about the same age as Ubbe when we tied the knot."

"That was because of you, not me," he reminded me. "If I'd had my way we would have been married years before."

"What, after just a few moons of me not noticing you were into me in the first place? It was only two and a half years. I thought I made you patient."

"Back then I didn't want to divorce." Seven words that tore my heart apart. That was all it took him now. Seven words.

"If you'll excuse me, I have somewhere to be where you aren't." I got up and dragged my seat behind me, choosing to sit with Hvitserk and Ubbe at the other end of the table.

"Where were you?" Ubbe asked before I even got seated. He looked worried. "You nearly missed my speech."

"I know, I'm sorry. I went to the Seer."

"Couldn't it wait?" His hand drifted off to Margrethe's lap. She held onto his hand but didn't look up from her conversation with Siggy. Judging by the look of it, it was a painful one. I caught her looking at me after Margrethe mentioned how she was now an auntie in her own right. 

I gave the girl a pitiful look, then turned to Ubbe again. "I made it back in time, didn't I?"

"What was so important?" Hvitserk asked.

"The revenge," I said. "Something tells me it won't be as easy as we think it will be." Both of them looked at me expectantly. Asking was rude, but pleading with their eyes... They had perfected that.

"I think this might be it." They grew antsy. They wanted confirmation. Rolling my eyes, I gave in. "I'll have to be amazing." Both of them erupted in howling hoots, making the entire table look up in surprise.

"Boys," I hissed. "Not the place, not the time." 

Lagertha whistled, calling to Hvitserk to fill his horn. Ivar raised up his horn as well.

"Auntie, this is huge," Ubbe whispered. "When will it happen?"

"Do you ever get a date from the Seer? Of course I don't, and it's just a feeling." I leaned in even closer. "The gods want me there. They have given me so many signs."

"Such as?" 

"Ubbe?" Margrethe leaned into the conversation. "What are you talking about?"

He didn't know how to respond. "It's err..."

"You told me you would always tell me everything, that's how we'll make this work. Surely auntie won't mind." 

I couldn't feel happy that Ubbe was on the receiving end of begging eyes for once. I felt an itch come up, but I held back. Had Aslaug still been alive, Margrethe would call her mother. It wasn't that strange for her to call me as Ubbe did, but she couldn't have been further from being my daughter had she tried. Siggy did her best not to snort, she knew exactly how I felt. She even went so far as to tap Thormund in the side with an elbow. 

"Well, err..." I gave a slight nod towards the groom, not wanting to be the evil step-mom in their lives. Ubbe loved the girl, and that should be reason enough for me to give her a fair chance. It should. "You know all about her being a vessel, right? Auntie was brought here for a reason, and she just went to the Seer. She has reason to believe her destiny may unfold in England." 

Margrethe looked like she didn't understand. Bless her soul, dumb as a rock. I could use a little of that in my life. "Then why try and keep it a secret?"

"Because it's just a hunch," I said. "It won't do to have everyone expect me to do something amazing, only to have it not happen at all."

"But the Seer told you. Then it must be true."

"He implied it. I'll have to stay and go."

"You're speaking in riddles. Why do you not take me seriously? I'm Ubbe's wife now. I'm part of this family." As I glanced around, I saw more people who had been against this marriage than in favor. Bjorn was trying to get answers out of Hvitserk, who looked a little troubled.

"Hvitserk!" I raised my cup, saving him from further examination.

"You were a slave once, just like me. You know how much I already know."

"Margrethe, it's nothing personal. I have a hard time trusting anyone. We might have both been slaves, but you must remember, it was a vastly different experience for both of us."

"You mean, I had it harder. I've served for years, you just for one."

"I don't want to get into a fight about who had it the worst. I'm just saying -"

"She's doing it again, Ubbe. I'm trying, I really am!" She clung at his arm, making me pity the boy. It was just as I feared. She would weigh him down, and only time would tell if he would sink or swim. 

"I'm sure she didn't mean to," he said with a kiss on her head. "Auntie can be hard on people on the best of days." 

I just shook my head. I understood his need to defend his wife, but this... This was telling her she was right to whine about me. They should have worked out shit like this before the wedding.

Hvitserk finally came to fill my cup, only to find it still half full.

"Auntie?"

"I need a cigarette," I sighed. "The Seer didn't just tell me good news." Hvitserk leaned in, and from the corner of my eye, I saw Ubbe casting glances as well. I couldn't be sure this wouldn't reach Margrethe's ears as well, and if he would shove me in front of the bus to placate her, I couldn't trust him anymore.

"There was something he wanted to tell me, but he couldn't," I whispered. 

"Something big?"

"Yes. And he told me all my choices have consequences. He made it sound like I should start saying my goodbyes." 

Hvitserk dropped the jug in his hands. The whole room fell silent. 

"Ragnhild, what's going on? Just what did the Seer tell you?" Ubbe asked.

"You should know better than to keep prophecies to yourself," Lagertha called out, "especially when they concern the family."

"I - I was just a little clumsy," Hvitserk lied. 

"She'll have to meet her fate," Margrethe said with a clear voice. 

Bjorn banged a fist on the table, then got up and left. Lagertha and Astrid followed while the twins kept staring at me. 

I could strangle the bitch. Judging by her face, she hadn't expected this kind of backlash. 

"Mom?" Thormund asked. Floki got him and his sisters out, followed by Ivar. 

I slowly turned to Margrethe, ready to rip her fucking head off. My children had no idea I had a destiny to fulfill, and for good reason. 

She hid away behind her new husband. I could only carry a pitying look for Ubbe. This had proven it to me; he could no longer be trusted with my secrets. And I saw the hurt over it in his eyes.


	23. Tea and Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 08-05-815

Margrethe's outburst had caused a ripple. Lagertha and Bjorn were pissed because I had lied to them, Hvitserk was worried sick I might be the one to die in England and tried to persuade me not to go, and Ubbe wore a cloak of repentance around him whenever he saw me. It had taken a lot of convincing, but the twins had backed down about my destiny. 

The only one not upset over the feast was Sigurd, who always managed to coax a smile from my lips. 

"If it's any consolation, she's not that good in bed," he told me over tea. "We've all been there, literally." 

I had to smile, I didn't even try to hide it. In the confines of my own home, I didn't have to pretend to be professional about this. "I always taught you three golden rules." 

"And he broke one. I can see why you don't like her. She's..." He started to flush, the slow kind when he was feeling uncomfortable. 

"Just like your mother?" I asked in a soft tone. Sigurd pouted, then lowered his eyes. 

"I just have this weird feeling when I'm with her. I thought it was good at first. I suppose that's why I slept with her in the first place."

"It's subtle, but it's there," I admitted. Aslaug must have rubbed off on her more than I thought. I only hoped this didn't mean Margrethe considered herself to be a contender for the crown now. She could mess up the delicate dynamics we had managed to build up since Lagertha had taken over.

"What makes you agree?" Sigurd reached out for a fourth cookie. I didn't mind at all, but somehow I always kept count. He always tried to sneak some, as if to dare me to say a word about it. 

"It's... I don't like speaking ill of the dead."

"But?" He drew out the question. 

"Your mother didn't hold your father's trust, the last few years. Ever since Ivar was born, to be exact. That's what started it, when she didn't take care of you anymore."

"I got a better mother in return." He only dared say it when we were alone, but as always, it brought a warmth to my heart. He'd replaced a large part of the emptiness Kol left in my heart.

"Ragnar knew. How you saw me as your mother. He knew how badly she neglected you."

"I don't remember him ever talking about it, though."

"Your father was glad to have someone take care of his boy. He knew I'd take care of you, no matter what." Thinking back on his life, Ragnar was hardly a mystery. There were some very clear-cut lines where his life had taken a turn for the worse, and Ivar being born was a big one. Then getting hooked on drugs, after he heard about the settlement, and losing to Rollo... It had all piled up over the last few years. He had cracked, and it had shown. 

"I wouldn't have it any other way," he assured me. "And as for my mother..." 

I rolled my eyes at his obviousness. "She was only concerned with herself, and how she stood to benefit from all that happened. In her eyes, she was the kingdom. She knew best, and it had to happen her way."

"And Margrethe's the same?"

I traced the lining of my mug with a finger. "I recognize a lot."

"Mom?" He knew how to soften me up.

"Why would she pick Ubbe, when she's head over heels for Hvitserk?" I couldn't wrap my head around it. Picking Ubbe was a power move, but she was too dumb to ever have a shot at the crown. It didn't make sense, she was too dumb to make that move on accident and too smart to not realize how obvious it was.

"He was the one who freed her."

"She still had a choice. And she damn well knew it."

"You told me once that father kept things away from mother all the time. It's either all or nothing."

"Where that girl is considered, nothing is too much. I gave her one secret and it took her a minute to blab it on. I can't trust that what I tell Ubbe will stay with him. Telling him is telling her, and I can't have that."

Sigurd was too good for this world. Even though he agreed with me, he still stuck up for his brother. "He knows."

"I know. He can claim he'll keep it from her when he's in my home, but when he's in bed with her..."

"He's not the only man in their bed," Sigurd told me with a sly grin. 

"By Thor's beard," I sighed. "Just more proof he's too soft to handle a woman like her. He needs to put her in her place, and fast. What will happen when we're all gone? Lagertha has even less patience with her than I do. Torvi will rip her to shreds just for asking for the salt."

"In any case, you could have picked a better place to tell them." I gave him a pointed look, but I knew he was right. "You're distracted. What else did the Seer tell you?"

"Sigurd..."

"It's eating away at you. If you really have this big thing you need to do in England, maybe I can help. If you're distracted on the field of battle, it won't end well." He would know... And with Bjorn there all the time, it might just prove to be all the distraction I could handle. 

"He told me my children will survive. All of them, as long as I am there."

"Okay, then you come with. What else?"

"My children will survive," I stressed. "Then I ask myself..." 

He let out a deep sigh. "Who will die?" 

It wasn't me. Otherwise not all of my children would survive. And that only made me fret about it more. "I don't know. He also told me I will find what I want, and what I need. But there will be consequences to my choices."

"I don't think it's all related," he mused. "You have this tendency to lump it all together and make a painting with the colors that you have. But who knows what will happen? We'll experience more than enough things over there." He was right, again. Seeing me smile told him all he needed to reach out for a fifth cookie. 

"How is the search for a house coming along?" I asked.

"I still have some time. It's not like I threatened to kill Lagertha."

That didn't sound like a "You know you'll have to get out of there once we get back."

"I know, but I'm not feeling up to living with Hvitserk and Ivar. I'm looking around, seeing what's available. I don't want to live uphill too much."

"The days we used to share a bed are also long gone," I reminded him. 

"Ah shit. I was hoping for one last sleepover. I know you would offer me a cot alongside the wall when push comes to shove, but you know how it goes right after a raid." Lots of men not making it back, prices dropping, availability... Not to mention that Sigurd had never gone raiding before. He didn't have any treasure to buy a house with.

"Don't tempt the gods," I warned him. 

"You know, I was rooting for you and Bjorn to get back together and then simply take his house," he grinned. It was a little too painful for me to fake a smile. "Auntie..."

I looked down at my mug. There were no more trails of steam coming off the tea. "It's still fresh. I know it's been a long time coming for all of you, but to me it only just got real."

"Which is why I make jokes about it. You always do better with a joke and an easy smile."

"You can be such a little shit," I teased. 

"That's because I learned from the best." 

I finished my mug and got up for another one when the door opened, rather carefully. Someone who felt guilty. 

"Hey, Sigurd, Auntie..." Hvitserk. Come with another plea, no doubt. 

"Tea?" I offered. "Might as well get a good cup out of it when you plead with me to stay back."

"Yes, please." Hvitserk sat down.

"Save it," Sigurd said as I rummaged through the shelves for a matching mug. "Auntie is coming, whether you like it or not."

I was glad for his support. I couldn't tell them about the baby, nor about my plan to see if Bjorn and I could still work. They'd only get in my way. Defending my sudden lust for battle was hard.

"Actually, I came to hide from Ivar. He's terrible."

"You don't say," Sigurd muttered. "What did he do this time?"

"He wants me to demand a slave from Lagertha, to help around the house." 

I let out a snicker as I filled two mugs. Sigurd handed me his for a refill as well. "What, is it too much for him to pick up his own shirts?"

"Pretty much. He never cooks, or cleans, he treats me like his nurse. He doesn't even try, and I can barely keep up with my own stuff, with all that's going on."

"Well, you could always move in with Ubbe and Margrethe," I offered. 

Hvitserk sighed. "Took you longer than I thought to make a comment on it. Are you disappointed?" 

I handed the mugs to the boys and sat down, taking a deep breath. "Yes." 

Hvitserk pouted, but I wouldn't let myself get fooled again where that girl was concerned. "That's bluntly put," he muttered. 

"Don't ask questions you don't want the answers to."

"She's more like you than you think," he bit back. 

"Then did she explain to you why she married Ubbe, despite the fact she loves you more?" 

"She did. And it all makes perfect sense." Yet he wouldn't share it with me, because he didn't want his fantasy to fall apart. 

"Did she tell Ubbe?" He drank his tea, burning his tongue. "Hvitserk..."

"I know, alright. You only tell me this because you love me, and you think it's a mistake, and you just want me to be happy. You know how hard it can be to let go." Right on the mark.

"Like no other. But I was going to ask you if you need help with something. You've got a lot of burdens to bear all of a sudden." He relaxed a bit. 

"I don't want to lose your trust," he admitted. "I know why you'd keep Ubbe at a distance, but please... I'm not telling her anything, I'm just eating her pussy." His shoulders dropped a bit after those last words. 

"I hope you get to do more than that," I said while I tried to keep a straight face. "Otherwise I can think of a few girls who might enjoy a tumble with you." 

"Ew, auntie!" Sigurd looked disgusted. "Please, not over tea..."

"Why are you so disgusted all of a sudden?" Hvitserk asked. "It's not like you've never been down there. You didn't really have trouble letting go of her..."

"She helped Lagertha capture me," Sigurd said in a decisive voice. "I'm not as stupid as Ubbe. I don't think with my dick." Hvitserk choked back an insult, by the look of it.

"Anyway, how's the packing going?" I asked.

"I've still got my stuff packed up," Hvitserk said.

I pulled up my nose. "At least take some clean clothes, I won't have you smelling all the while because you're a filthy monkey." 

He rolled his eyes. "This'll be terrible. Can't wait to go off into a fight with you there. 'Did you sharpen your axe? Make sure you keep your shield up!' Like I need another mother..." 

That was not what I wanted for either of us, but I couldn't let him run around in soiled furs. 

"She's not our babysitter anymore," Sigurd pointed out. He sneaked a seventh cookie underneath his hand, but I saw. 

Hvitserk took two cookies at the same time and chewed twice, then sprayed the table with crumbs. "It's just weird, okay? Raiding is like, a men's thing. I know there's plenty of women who come along, but they're not... I don't know."

"They don't remember you saying you would never poke girls with your weewee?" Hvitserk flushed at the memory. I just laughed. "Don't worry, little man," I teased. I took the last cookie for myself. "I won't be there to sing your praises, I'll be killing a few Saxons of my own."

Hvitserk swallowed, his face contrite. "Can you? I mean, I know you stabbed your father, but have you ever killed someone? Watch the life bleed out of their eyes?" 

It was a fair question, coming from him. He had no idea what lay on the road to Trondheim. "I'll do my part. Did you forget? I get to decide who lives, and who dies. I haven't missed a target for over four years."

"These will move," Hvitserk pointed out. "What if you hit one of ours by accident? It's a risk and it does happen. I don't want you crushed with guilt."

I put a hand on his. "Hvitserk, I'll be fine. It's not the battles that I fear." He and Sigurd both gave me a lingering look before they drank from their tea. "You know I get seasick." The joke didn't land.

"If that's what you fear, you're dumber than you look." Hvitserk stuffed the remainder of the cookies in his mouth, then licked his fingers for the crumbs. 

"There's a part of me that worries over Kattegat. Last time I left Siggy died."

"Lagertha will keep them safe," Sigurd said. "No one will dare touch them."

"I know. It's just... The gods want me to stay, and they want me to go..."

"You can't be in two places at once. That means both your body and your mind. You'll need to be focused." 

I cocked an eyebrow, surprised Hvtiserk would say such a thing. It sounded like something Thorfan would say. Had he decided to train some more since he'd come back? Already he was the best fighter of his brothers, but he was still no match for Bjorn.

Sigurd gave me a smug smile as if to tell me he'd told me so. 

I softly kicked his ankle, just enough to bite. "At tleast I'll be perpetually drunk on the way over. That should drown my sorrows."

"Yeah... I still can't believe you'd sail with Harald."

"She's right, though," Hvitserk sighed. "Bjorn is still angry over what happened at Ubbe's wedding feast. You should try and talk to him beforehand. We can't use drama over there."

As much as I wanted to wait for it to blow over, these last few days before we'd take off were precious. Leaving on mutual respect was the best I could hope for at this point. "That might be a good idea. If only to settle your minds."

"What did you have planned for dinner?" Sigurd asked.

"Standard fare," I said as I waved towards the kitchen. "Can't have the supplies going bad, with the kids off at the hall."

"Then off you go. Hvitserk and I will cook."

"You'd just postpone until it's too late," Hvitserk added. "We've seen you do it so many times, we'll be fine."

"Okay..." My seat was rather comfortable.

"Well, come on. Off you go, then."

"I haven't finished my tea."

"Auntie." They would keep this up until I relented, or one of them called me out on stalling. 

"Oh, alright." I downed the remainder of the mug and got up. "At least try not to make a mess, I won't have any energy to clean the entire house when I get back."

I hesitated if I should wear a cloak. It was still cold outside, but the sun was still out. Most people had already huddled inside for dinner. The day was coming to an end. No cloak today. 

Bjorn was surprised to see me standing in front of him as he opened the door.

"Ragnhild?" 

I should've gone against the boys, I still needed to mull things over by myself. "We need to talk about that prophecy." 

He let me in. His house had become a pig sty. I couldn't really blame him, with all the traveling he'd been doing lately.

I threw some clothes off a chair and sat down. Bjorn joined me, looking worse for wear. "Bad night?" I asked.

"Bad moon. The twins have been hounding me about keeping you safe over there."

I'd told them not to. "I'll get them to back off. They should know better than blame you for all my hurt." I turned my head away, knowing I'd left a perfect opening for Bjorn to jump on if he felt like it. 

"Ragnhild. Before I left they were sort of okay with all of this. What did you tell them?"

"It's hard for them. They see how much it hurts me, and they take out their frustration on you. I'll talk to them again, I'm sorry." 

He sat back, sighing deeply. "What about the prophecy?" He didn't want to linger on the divorce, instead cracking his knuckles.

"All my children will survive, as long as I am with them. So, I worry about the ones I leave behind. And who might die that comes with us."

"Lagertha will keep them safe. As for us... It's a raid. Things happen. We know that when we leave. You said you were okay with that." The accusatory edge in his voice stung. It told me I wasn't good enough.

"I can't lose another child," I reminded him. It would kill me. 

"I know."

"Speaking of which, I - I asked about the bones." Bjorn wanted to get up, but I put a hand on his arm. He looked down, then stared at me, unmoving. "This isn't about Kol, please. I asked, but he refused to answer me. I want to tell you about what happened after."

"Which was?"

"He reached out to me. Physically. There was something he wanted to tell me, but the gods didn't allow it. Said it wasn't his to tell, and that he needed to remind me of previous prophecies." 

His eyes narrowed. "And?"

"I don't know. He's told me so much over the years, and there's so much that still hasn't happened." I'd cursed Odin over it years ago, and sometimes still did. But now it was here I felt anxious. What would happen after I'd completed my destiny?

"Then the big ones come to mind." Bjorn got up, tearing my hand off his arm.

I'd forgotten I had touched him at all. It had felt so natural. "And the one he didn't tell me. The one about my fate being entwined with that of the Viking came from your father."

"Then why do you hesitate?"

"It's too simple. I don't know what, but I have this feeling... We'll get more than we bargained for."

"Do you want to blow it all off? Stay home?"

"I want to go in prepared. The gods, they have their reasons. And if I'm ever to fulfill my destiny, it'll have to happen before I'm too old. I won't go on many raids after this, let's face it." The fall of my life was setting in, and I'd spend it with poopy diapers and cracked nipples. 

"What makes you say that?"

"I can't leave Freydis alone. Even if the twins come with me -"

"Us," Bjorn corrected.

"I won't have her left behind by herself. The twins will need to go with you, next year. And I'm getting old, by any measure."

"You're not that old."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Bjorn. I'm pushing forty." This was the wrong subject to flatter me on. Most of my life was over, that much I knew. 

"Maybe it wasn't a grand gesture you had to do. You've helped so many people over the years, that could have been it."

"I don't think so. Odin likes drama too much for something that dull."

"Drama?"

"Appearing to you on Gibraltar? A murder of crows?" 

He sighed in acknowledgment. "Then why not tell me this when I asked at the feast, and hint at it to the boys? You did come by to apologize, I recall." If he said it aloud like this, he forced me to.

"They dragged it out of me with those pouty faces. I meant to think on it for a bit on my own."

"For all the shit you give them, you're plenty distracted yourself." 

Three people telling me the same, in the span of an hour. I had to get my shit together. "I meant to tell you," I stressed. He kept silent, waiting for the words. "I'm sorry."

"I don't accept it. You fucked up, and you'll make the same mistake again. And again. And again." 

I got up and went for the door. "You know, you can't hate on me like this when we're there. I won't be your wife, or the mother of your children."

"We'll see about that." 

Oh, I'd show him.


	24. With A Grain Of Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10-05-815

With the last of the arrivals coming in from Denmark, Lagertha had planned the sacrifice for tonight. Some king's son would be honored in the hall before he died, but I had no desire to get to know him before he died. Besides, having a quiet family dinner with the children was exactly what I needed. Seeing them bustle around making dinner for me for a change, a bid to show me they were perfectly capable of taking care of the house in my absence, made me realize I should've treated them as adults sooner. I was too fond of taking care of them, and despite the chores they had to do, some things I preferred to do myself. I wasn't ready to leave them behind. 

"No, you need to stir over the bottom!" Siggy tried to get a hand on the wooden spoon Thormund used. "It'll burn, give it here!"

"It's already burned," Thormund said, stealing glances at me. I pretended not to hear. I'd eat whatever they made even if it made me sick to my stomach. "You'll get the taste in there everywhere, she told Hvitserk last week. You brush past it, like drawing a line in the sand."

"Mom can hear you," Freydis whispered. "We have to do this together. We're stronger that way, she keeps telling us so." 

"Did you finish the beans already?" Thormund asked. "I think they can go in."

"No, wait a bit longer. They'll go soft, she always does those last." 

"But I like them when they're soft..."

Siggy managed to snatch the spoon from his hands, sighing exasperatedly. "This is for mom, not for you." 

Freydis agreed, peeking over the edge of the kettle with her hands behind her back so she wouldn't burn them on the scalding iron.

I had long given up on trying to read my book; watching them through my lashes was so much more satisfying. They were trying so hard to make me proud. I already was, seeing how they tried to get their own twists in there for me to compliment on. 

The door burst open, tearing me from my thoughts. Everyone knew by now not to break down the door, especially around dinner time. 

"Vessel!" Halfdan rushed in, heading for the children without hesitation. "Where is your mother? I have need of her services. Now."

I rose up from the bed, putting down my book. I didn't like him being this close to Freydis. 

"You know the rules," Siggy said, her face turning to stone. "Not after dinner. No weapons beyond the door."

"That rule is older than we are," Freydis said, no sting in her voice as she took over stirring responsibilities. They would be fine. It was me who had trouble letting go. "Thormund, where are the herbs?"

"I asked you a question," Halfdan said. I could see his mustache wriggling from just behind him, much to my amusement. I made to open my mouth but the children weren't done yet. 

"Rules are rules," Thormund said. "First you need to obey them." 

An unfortunate choice of words, but Halfdan knew better than to harm my children. His hand did slide to his knife, but he only unsheathed it as he turned around, facing away from me, and put his weapons where they belonged. 

"Now will you tell me where -" As he turned around again his eyes found me, grinning my ass off. "This isn't the time to play games, Ragnhild. You know how much I loathe asking for help, with anything." He stole a few glances at the kids, but they continued cooking as they saw I wasn't going to throw him out immediately. 

"I'm not in the habit of helping people after dark," I repeated. "You know that, so I wonder what makes you think you stand a chance at all."

"My brother has lost his mind," he whispered as he pulled me close. A sharp look made him let go of me. "The Danes that came here today, you can't allow them to come with."

"Why not?" I'd heard their earl was a bit of a recluse, but nothing worth keeping him back over. If he had made the effort to get here I wouldn't turn him down so shortly before the departure, not without a very good reason. 

"Because of who he married. We can't have that bitch around if you want Harald and me to sit at the table with you." 

He thought I had a say about that? It was the revenge of the sons of Ragnar, not his sons and daughter-in-law. Bjorn would allow me a place at the table, grudgingly, but he had made it perfectly clear I was there as an extension of him. I was not supposed to make my own voice heard. Any and all ideas I had about the campaign had to be run past him, first. 

Normally I would have rejected such ridiculous terms, but it meant we had time alone together. That was my goal, after all. To see if we could still pull through. Being forced to work together might just be the thing that would help us mend fences.

Moreover, Halfdan thought he and Harald would have a say. Bjorn meant to run this show by himself, not have every earl and his mother speak up. The thought of having Halfdan and Harald indebted to me was one I cherished, but it would mean I would break a vague promise to Bjorn before we even started. 

This would be interesting, either way.

"I was looking forward to having my children cook for me for the first time. You do realize that I'll have to miss them for quite a while, don't you?"

Halfdan didn't understand. Whenever he didn't understand something it made him eager to lash out, but he knew I'd retaliate if he did so here. He cast a glance, seeing the kids were eagerly focusing back on the food again. They whispered amongst themselves, but this time I couldn't hear what they were saying. 

"Get out of here," he told the children, then whistled. 

I smacked him in the chest. "They're not dogs," I chided. "You're the one who's intruding here."

He grunted, bared his teeth as if he were a wild animal. Whatever his coming here was about, it made him throw caution in the wind. It was... Yes, it was because he cared about something. Not a fight, something else. Someone, maybe? So this was how Halfdan acted when he felt something akin to love. 

Endearing as it was, I had dinner plans with the children.

Halfdan's face turned serious. "If you don't want to help me, then say so. You'll have to find another ship to sail with if you do." 

This shortly before we set off, finding a different boat to travel on would be near impossible. Every nook and cranny had been filled with men and supplies, and since I wouldn't be rowing as the other men would I was basically a waste of space, famous as I was. And yet, the gods meant for me to go there. I couldn't defy their signs. In his desperation, Halfdan forced me to let him stay over for dinner. 

"We don't mind if he stays, as long as he tastes the food first," Thormund said, a devious smile on his face. Just what had they done in those two seconds I didn't pay attention to them? Either way, he needed to work on his poker face.

Halfdan made his way over, not even waiting for me to respond. Taking the spoon Thormund held out to him, bringing it up to his nose, the twins started to grin. Halfdan noticed, too. 

"If you want to haze me as we do in the camps, you'll have to wait for man to kill disease. What is this, salt? I can see all of it, what kind of amateur attempt is this? Do you have any idea how expensive this is? It doesn't look like the regular kind either, how did you even get that stuff?" 

I scowled at the twins. There was a time and a place for pranks, and this clearly wasn't it. "It's what was left," I said as I came near, the smiles running away from their faces. Freydis clutched her sister's shirt with a hand, no doubt feeling most guilty of all. "I could've seasoned all of the food for the next two moons with that, and you know Birgritta is off to Francia these days to get me my herbs. It'll be a few moons before she returns, and you know I pay her a hefty price for it. Most men out there would die to get their hands on what you just threw away. What do you have to say for yourselves?" 

"We're sorry, mom," Thormund said, his eyes downcast. He didn't hold hands with Siggy; he didn't mean it at all. If anything, he was sorry for being caught. 

"I believe there's someone else you owe an apology to. Isn't there?" I snatched the spoon from Halfdan's hand and placed it in the sink. No wonder Halfdan had seen through them, I could see the salt even with my arm outstretched. Had it been because of a lack of time, or did they do it this obvious on purpose? 

Halfdan was already tasting directly from the pot, humming in approval as he licked off his finger. It was too much to hope he'd washed it somewhere since last Saturday. 

"Good enough. Now, do I get your help?"

"The children already said they don't mind sharing me on our last night alone," I said, hating myself for saying the words. Someone had to teach them about consequences, and Bjorn wouldn't be that person. "Why don't we talk over dinner." 

The disappointment in their faces was horrible, but I had to keep them to their word. Freydis was the first to move, taking Halfdan by the hand and sitting down next to him. He'd hurt her when she was just a few moons old. I'd get back at him for that, one day.

The twins set up the table under my watchful eye, bickering over the seasoning when it wouldn't matter that much. It would be overly salty, and they were terrified of putting much else in there now. 

"Mom told us you saw a sea unicorn once," Freydis said. 

He looked down and took her in. His tongue moved past the inside of his cheek. "I did. It was caught in our nets the day my brother returned to Vestfold, after visiting Kattegat for the first time. We kept its horn and the bones." 

"Mom said it was a tooth," Siggy said, carrying plates to be filled up to Thormund. 

"Is it true it was made of elven bone?" Thormund looked up as he put some stew on every plate, not bothering to scoop it beside the bread that Siggy already put on there. I hated soggy bread, but I took my plate with a smile. They'd done their best on this, them not being able to garnish that well yet was my own fault. 

"Aye, elven bone it was. I still don't know how she got to have that comb, but Harald has it with him, always. Speaking of my brother..." Halfdan shot me a knowing look before chowing down on his food. 

I tried some of the stew. It tasted bland, but the burned bits hadn't gotten into the taste. This was better than expected. 

"I like how you got the meat to stay chewy," Halfdan said before I could open my mouth. "They always boil it to mush, this reminds me of camp food. Makes me hunger for roast boar. Could do with less salt, though." 

The twins stared at him, as did I. Not that he bothered to watch how his criticism was received; he was completely focused on his plate. 

"For a first time you did a wonderful job," I said as I picked at the soggy bread. 

"Don't oversell it," Halfdan said. "If they hadn't used any herbs after ruining it with the salt it would've been better. It's not that hard to get a stew going and let it be."

"Are you telling me how to raise my children?" I asked, sensing I'd need to dampen the anger I already felt. 

"I thought you wanted them to survive their first battle. I know your kind, you'll turn them soft." My kind? And what exactly did he mean by that? Women?

"This is about them cooking, not their battle skills." 

"How much better can those be? Huh? You, girl, what weapons do you fight with?"

Siggy blushed, and I knew where it came from. He acknowledged her as a warrior, no questions asked. She wasn't used to having people respect that decision at her age, at all. I had no idea what Halfdan was doing, but it seemed best not to interrupt him just yet. Getting this kind of interest from a man who wasn't family was exactly what she needed every now and then.

She veered up proudly. "Sword, and bow." 

"Why no axe?" Halfdan shoved a piece of bread in his mouth, chewing with his mouth open.

"I don't have the strength to use it and cause real damage yet. I need to wait until I'm fully grown, until then I mean to focus on other things." 

He glowered at me, then turned back to the twins. "Huh. Makes sense. And you?" he asked Thormund.

"Sword and axe. Mom's forcing me to spend more time with the bow."

"Hmm. As well she should, you're a useless scout without it. You might want to pick up a blade as well for that, scouts need to be quick on their feet. Both of you." Halfdan pointed at the twins with his fork as he spoke, drops of the stew stuck in his mustache as he swallowed. 

"That's one way to look at it," Siggy said, spoon hovering in front of her. She knew not to eat with a full mouth. "The Romans used to have their scouts on horseback all the time, they had longswords and shields. But they had huge distances to cover all the time."

"The who, now?"

"Romans. You know, from that place you went to with dad. They were there until about three hundred years ago, they left their marks everywhere. They conquered that whole sea."

"They started losing parts of it long before that," Thormund countered. "They lost Iberia long before to the Muslims."

"Muslims?" Halfdan asked. He got ignored, the twins starting to bicker over the history I'd taught them about two years back. It was relevant back then, as their father had declared he would go there this year. Everyone had been warned to make sure they planted extra that year, so they would survive a lesser year now with fewer hands to sow the fields. Two years of bounty, and now the lean harvest year to compensate for the riches they would have brought back - had they been successful. 

Now they had returned sooner than anticipated. Ever since Ragnar had returned, the mood had turned grim. People liked reassurance, to know this huge effort wasn't in vain, and that was something I couldn't promise them. More than a few were forced to come with on the coming campaign because they had a lean year to get through. Bjorn had been selfish, returning after hitting only one city. 

Bjorn should've known better than to pick personal revenge over the good of the kingdom. Nothing good ever came from it. Besides, Ragnar wasn't worth this much civil unrest.

"You're the one I dropped, aren't you?" Halfdan asked as he turned to his other side. He had no interest in discussing his brother with the children here. "I suppose I owe you an apology. Your mother is still furious with me because you have that scar." 

"It's okay. I can't remember it. It's up here, in my hair." Freydis parted her hair, revealing the scar Halfdan had left on her. It was a barely visible mark above her left ear, but every time I brushed her hair, it enraged me anew. 

"You call that a scar?" Halfdan asked as he put down his spoon. "I let you smack me in front of my men because of this?" 

I didn't respond, munching on the soggy bread instead. My eyes willed him to die on his spot. 

"Mom always worries about us," Freydis said as she reached up to pat Halfdan on the shoulder. "Don't take it personally, we're all she has. Everyone says so." 

Her remark hit closer to home than I wanted it to. If it wasn't for my children... The boys were growing up now, even Ivar seemed to be able to live on his own. Only my own children depended on me, now. And I would leave them behind, willingly, for the sake of their unborn sibling. The one they didn't even know about. 

"Aye... Tell me, are you as wise as the Vessel, yet?" 

"Calling mom Vessel all the time makes her feel lonely," Freydis said, her eyes big and sincere as she looked up at Halfdan. He didn't know how to respond other than open his mouth. 

"What did you want to talk about?" I asked, hoping to change the subject. 

Halfdan took me in for a moment, let his eyes slide to the twins as they grew silent, then turned back to me. "That woman did as you told him he would. He refuses to listen to me." 

Elisif... This was worth knowing, no matter what. The twins were right to want to prank Halfdan and keep him here. It had worked out in the end, but I'd still preferred them to not waste that much expensive salt. 

"Did she, now?" From the corner of my eye, I saw the twins bumping elbows. Halfdan showed me no indication he realized I was emulating his speech pattern to get him to talk. 

"Aye... I told him to kill the bitch." He knew. He wanted to see how I would react to him speaking of murder in front of the children. 

"And start a blood feud with Denmark? Vic isn't loved, but tensions are running high with everyone gathered here. The Danes feel unwelcome as it is." 

It was like that every time our people met in great numbers. The Norsemen hated the Swedes, the Swedes hated the Norsemen, and both hated the Danes. It didn't matter if our numbers were small or large, some things just were. 

"You knew about this already?" 

"Weren't that many left without a wife. I doubted Sif would have gone for Graeme." The messengers we sent out were told to watch for any changes to what I knew when they were visiting their targets. Graeme was an old, bothersome cunt that had never held onto a wife for longer than five years, and still had plenty of heirs to plague his hall. Compared to the young man who never had married before... 

"Hmm." He took a long drink from his horn. He'd taken a gamble telling me the start, and now he was caught. "She impugned on his honor." 

"You can't blame a woman her age for choosing a husband. Women are only fertile for so many years." 

"He refused to kill her," he said as if that changed anything. 

"He only had a vague promise." 

"Harald should've killed her."

"He'll be fine. If I cured every heartbreak that came past my doorstep with murder we'd be down half the population." 

"It's about honor," he sneered. "Do you even understand that concept?" 

How dare he. After all that I'd done for him, helping him with his demons and letting him and his brother join in on our raids again. They had almost succeeded in killing Ragnar back in Paris, they had been difficult in Scotland, and then this asshole had almost killed Freydis. And he dared question my honor? 

"That will be all, Halfdan. I will not let you call me a spineless, oathbreaking coward in my own home, in front of my own children. You're lucky I'm related to the Volsungs. We know not to take revenge on the same day we were insulted. I wouldn't be too sure about what happens in England, though." 

"You don't have their blood," Halfdan spat as he got up. "Your children don't, either." 

"They have the blood of Odin," I said as I got to my feet, "and the blessings of Freyja. How dare you threaten me in my own home, look down on the children of Bjorn Ironside and the Vessel of Freyja. You would do well to remember who I am and where you are, for you will see the truth of my words. Your brother is better off leaving that woman alone, and you are better off not overstaying your welcome." 

I took deep breaths as he got his weapons and left, swinging his axe around as if to make a statement. The children remained silent even after the door smashed shut, bouncing in the door post twice. Not bothering to shut it properly, I sat down, if only to hide my shaking hands. 

I'd fucked up. What if he would keep me from boarding Harald's flagship? I had to go to England. Halfdan wasn't the type to go back on a threat, he'd keep me from boarding if he could. 

"You have to be mindful of who you invite to dinner," I said as I picked up the drenched piece of bread on my plate. I wasn't hungry, but I was eating for two now. "Even a lamb can turn out to be a wolf in disguise. If you're done eating I need you to get changed for the sacrifice, you know I want you dressed in your best clothes." 

"Yes, mom," three voices echoed.


	25. The Shooting Star

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-05-815

Lagertha looked strange, dressed in white with golden accents on her face. She looked as different from Aslaug as she could while officiating. As she passed before us, Bjorn on my right and the children on my left, an uneasy feeling came over me. I had to tell Bjorn about what had just happened.

"Bjorn," I whispered to my side. 

"Shh."

"It's about Harald."

"Shhh."

Miffed, I turned back to the platform Lagertha stood on. All around us bells chimed, but it were too many to think it added something mysterious. It was more of a dull rhythm, lulling everyone to sleep. As if it would detract from the innocent blood that would be spilled. The boy got tied up by a few shieldmaidens.

It was Lagertha's one contribution, according to many, wanting to sacrifice a human to appease the gods. They had no idea what it cost to feed a host as large as the one that lay anchor in the fjord. I'd had to chip in and make a lot of deals with the merchants, both the stocks here and the ships needed to get the town resupplied after. Lagertha's wall and the boys' army had broken the bank. I only had my reserves left, and those I meant to keep intact for the children.

Not that anyone seemed to care. Revenge, honor, it was more of a staple than bread in these parts. These people didn't know how to cut their losses. Either way, going on this raid would provide me with plenty of loot to sell off to those I knew would pay the best price for it, making up for my losses. I wouldn't go broke, and after the divorce, Bjorn would have to supply Lagertha with a few chests of gold to get by. It was no hair off my back, officially I wouldn't have an income after we divorced. One more thing to worry about after I came back.

"We call upon you, Odin!" Lagertha cried out. The whole crowd followed. "We call upon you, Thor!"

Bjorn chanted along loudly as if to outdo my softer voice. Somehow it felt like there was a sting in there somewhere, but I couldn't tell if it was because I wanted to see it, or because it was truly there. 

"We call upon you, Freyja!" 

I carried the call with a loud voice, but to my left there was silence. It broke my heart. 

My right hand found Siggy, who looked up at me with amazement in her eyes. She'd not seen a person sacrificed since Uppsala when Bjorn and I had been together behind the altar. Her beautiful green eyes drew a smile from my lips. She and her brother and Freydis, they were the reason I was doing this, it was for my children. The gods wouldn't let me fail, not after this many signs. There was a reason I was there, and the more I thought on the Seer's words, the more I felt certain it would be alright. 

Siggy's eyes went wide, her mouth agape as she nudged Thormund. "Mom, look!" 

I followed her finger, seeing the clear light of a falling star brushing through the atmosphere. More gasps came from the crowd, and I couldn't help but fall back to one of the oldest superstitions I knew. 

"Make him understand," I wished, under my breath, feeling the yearning in my heart grow bigger. The hole that Kol had left ached. It was a darkness inside of me, threatening to consume me. 

I glanced to my other side, but he was trying to walk away. I caught his arm before I thought to stop him, then found his eyes. 

"Don't you dare go off to fuck Astrid now," I whispered. 

He held his breath for a second, then let out a sigh as he took his place beside me again. "How did you know about her?" he whispered. 

"Shh," I hissed, turning my attention back to Lagertha, just in time to see her slide a sword into the boy's chest. I'd have gone for the heart with a vertical cut myself, slipping through the ribs, but she had chosen the midriff. It was more painful, but to my amazement, the boy barely gasped. His hands reached out to Lagertha, grabbing hold of her shoulders, then pulled her close. 

I'd never seen someone die like that. 

The only sound he made was his lungs gasping for air as he spat out blood, the gurgling of a man already dead. His body hadn't caught up yet. The twins were in awe as well, and Freydis... She stood as if hypnotized. I nudged Thormund and gestured to check on her, I couldn't reach her myself. 

He slung an arm around her but she kept on staring, even as he whispered in her ear. It made me want to nudge Bjorn to see what he would think of it, but his shadow wasn't there anymore. He'd left anyway. Asshole. As much as I wanted to promise myself I'd get him back for that, I knew I wouldn't. 

Holding onto hatred for far too long had become a habit. At first, it had been about Aslaug and Vinh, but then too many people had followed after them. I was done with my vengeance, I had completed it all. It was behind me, I wasn't a hateful person anymore. I should breathe, I should forgive. But I couldn't.

A hand touched my arm. It was Lagertha. 

"What is it?" she asked. 

Taking a deep breath, I shook my head. "It's nothing. I was lost in thought, that's all." I turned to Freydis, but she'd snapped out of her thing, following the twins to the hall. "It was an auspicious sign."

"Indeed it was, though I do wonder what has you this concerned." Her eyes wanted to glance down, but she stopped at my shoulders. 

"I wanted to tell Bjorn but he went off again. It's about the new arrivals." 

Lagertha cocked her head, knowing this wasn't something to talk of in public. We walked towards the edge of the gathering, watching as some of Lagertha's shieldmaidens took care of the boy's body. He'd died well. 

"That woman, the blond one. She's the reason we've been under threat for over a decade," I whispered. Lagertha took in my face, the gold-colored paint on her face shimmering as she moved around slightly. 

"Does that impact you, or me?" 

"Both. I'll keep an eye over them the next week, but you can bet this won't end well for either of us. If one won't do a thing, the other will. I've never seen Halfdan looking like that."

"Halfdan?"

"He dropped by for dinner. I -"

"Mother?"

I froze as I heard Bjorn's voice. So he hadn't been off with someone. It was a small relief. It still meant he'd left my side when I asked him not to. I'd never been that direct about his cheating, calling him out on the spot. Even now he didn't even try and deny that he'd been with his mother's girlfriend, of all people. How could Lagertha stand it? How could she look that bitch in the eye?

How could I stand being around Bjorn?

"I have to go," I said, not able to hide the pain on my face. I hurried off, taking the long way around the torches that stood by deserted as a few unlucky women were tasked with cleaning everything up. I couldn't deal with being around Bjorn this close to the departure, it was like I was being confronted with all the hard choices I would have to make all at once, not knowing where the dice would fall. 

I didn't even have a plan, yet. There was nothing to do but hope for the best. I didn't have a clue as to what went on in raiding camps these days, or what to expect from the battles. I knew strategy, I knew the men I would be working with, but did I dare put myself in the hands of the gods like this? 

The hall overflowed with loud noises and people laughing, banging horns together so hard they almost cracked. I didn't feel like going in. I felt sick from all the sadness in my heart, it robbed me of any desire to eat or drink or pretend to be happy. But it would be the last night with the children... 

I just needed a minute to myself, starting tomorrow I'd be surrounded by other people all the time. I needed room to breathe. That was all. 

The sea was still, only a few faint waves sliding onto the beach. Had the moon been fuller, I'd have been able to see my own reflection in the soft lobs of water washing away the sand. All I saw now was darkness, a few foamy bubbles here and there. 

Gazing up, the mountains looked like two familiar arms, hugging me tightly. They begged me not to go, to screw the fates and keep safe here, with my family. The ones that still needed me, at least. Did we really need Bjorn to survive? What if I stayed here?

I didn't want to go.

I had to. The gods wanted me to go. I didn't want to know Bjorn and I were definitely over; holding onto hope was so much better than being vulnerable. I'd have to open up to Bjorn, and there was every chance it would hurt. But I had to give it a try, if only for the little sprout growing inside of me. Did I even want to get back with Bjorn? The Seer had told me I'd find what I wanted, and what I needed, but then Sigurd had said those didn't have to be the same thing. What if I changed my mind there, and Bjorn would end up chasing me? Crawling on his knees to get back with me after finding out about our child?

How could I ever stop loving him? He'd done his worst, and still, I wanted to be with him. Whatever was supposed to happen, I couldn't carry even a shred of doubt in my heart. I could break down after. I'd have the boys there with me. It was their turn to take care of me, for a change. I'd need their help with the baby. My body would start to creak and grow old, soon. 

A song was on my lips, ready to drip down as if the notes were tears, but I heard footsteps approaching. So much for my breath of air. 

"Harald sent me by," Halfdan said as he joined me, not bothering to check if I even wanted his company. "Told me to apologize." 

From the way he spoke, I knew he rolled his eyes. "Did he, now?" 

It earned me a grunt. Halfdan wasn't happy about this at all. "Will you accept?" He turned to me, looking down just a bit. He was considerably short for a Viking, I reached up to his chin. 

"You haven't even made your apology yet."

"Stop playing games," he spat. 

"No, Halfdan. You stop playing games. You called me a coward, you called me dishonest, you did so in front of my children. If you know me, at all, you know that's the one place where you can't hope to insult me and then get to brag about it to your friends. To my kids I'm not the Vessel, I'm their mother. They hate that title. It means they have to leave the house all the time, and that I could be called away at any time, and you just come bursting in without any regard for how it would affect them! I have those rules for a reason! I need to keep them from thinking I care more about other people than I do about them!"

"This is your demons talking."

My hands itched to break something. Halfdan had touched upon so much pain and confusion, and now it had nowhere to go. "You're damn right they are! It's those same damn demons that are forcing me to go along on this fucking raid! Get out of my sight!" 

"What? I thought you wanted... Ragnhild, what are you talking about?"

"If you think my life is my own, you're worse off than a blind man. The gods are cruel, Halfdan." 

For a moment he sat still as a rock. I turned back to the fjord, closing my eyes as I felt a breeze blow through my hair. It felt like destiny was calling me, and all I wanted to do was run away. I couldn't face England yet. It stood for all the pain I'd avoided over the years, thinking myself not strong enough. Now I'd have to be stronger than ever.

I'd have to lie to myself, keep having faith, so I could finally breathe in the truth. I didn't want to believe it yet. I wasn't strong enough.

"I know you're not a coward," Halfdan said, his voice soft and near. "Will you at least tell Harald I tried?"

"If you don't tell anyone about me not wanting to come along. I have a part to play, after all." I looked down at his feet.

"Then at the least let me get you a drink before we take off. I think we could both use a few."

"For starters," I sighed. I'd have to go inside at one point, and going in with someone else,- even if it was Halfdan, made it easier. 

"How does that even work?" Halfdan asked. 

I glanced at him, not knowing what he meant. 

"The not wanting to go. You're the Vessel of Freyja, I mean - she's the goddess of war."

"Not everyone is as attached to their nickname, Halfdan the Black. Do you think Ragnar liked to be called Shaggypants when he was king? What if Bjorn ends up losing a limb, will people still look up to him and call him Ironside?"

"But the gods are on his side. Why would they desert him?"

I sighed, wondering why I even tried. "It's a lot to live up to. You'll always enjoy fighting and bloodshed, but other people are more complicated."

"Are you calling me simple?"

"I'm calling you goal-oriented. You see a Christian, you kill him. I'd want to figure out what he knows about enemy positions, first. Bjorn would want to see if their weapons have advanced over the years.

"And then you'd kill him afterward?"

I shook my head, knowing the trip ahead would be too long the second it started.


	26. England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 11-05-815

My last night in Kattegat, I'd dreamt of things better left in the past. It had made me rise before dawn, softly pulling aside the wooden board that covered my treasures. The feather was still there, and though it was a bit dusty, it was still eerie. 

I blew against it, but it didn't move. The gods. They had given me this, through the Seer. I knew I had to keep it safe. Blasted fuckers, they hadn't even given me an instruction manual to go with this thing. Keep it safe, that was all. But did that mean I had to bring it with me? 

It had something to do with the gods, but what? I had kept it here whenever I was away for a short trip, but this would be at least a moon. The feather hadn't kept me and Bjorn together, that much was clear. It must have been a different kind of protection. Was it meant just for me? Or for the entire house? 

If I took it with me, it would protect me and the child. But here... This wasn't like before as it had been with Kol. I had three living children to protect, they deserved just as much love and protection as the one inside of me. Besides, there was every chance that I'd... 

On the verge of tears, lips and hands shaking in desperation, I realized there was no right choice to make. Whatever would happen, it was about being able to live with the consequences. My choice, my responsibility. Already I was breaking down.

Hands shaking, I put the feather back. The wooden board clattered as I put it back in place, fidgeting with the splinter of wood that kept it all in place. It had to get back in place before the children woke, but the way my hands were shaking it was a miracle they hadn't woken up yet. 

I had dreamt of Bjorn. He'd wrestled off my wedding ring, thrown it into the sea on our way over. Then, without skipping a beat, he had proposed to me anew, claiming that the third time would be the last one. The sight of the ring made me want to believe in fairy tales. The gods were cruel, downright vicious, but they wouldn't play with my heart like this. Good things would happen there, I just had to give it a chance. I wouldn't hate all of it, I could deal with whatever came my way.

One day at a time. Just like we always told each other. One day at a time.

"Wake up kids! It's time to start breakfast, it's a big day today!" 

Forcing a smile to my face I got up and changed into my traveling clothes. Lagertha had warned me about only being taken seriously as a warrior with pants on, but the thought of baring my ass whenever I had to use the bucket on the ship made the decision for me. A dress meant a fair modicum of privacy, and I was eager to keep the intimacy with Harald and Halfdan to a minimum. 

Breakfast was silent. The twins were crabby and Freydis just poked at her dried sausage. 

"I know you're not that into leftovers, but you'll be eating with grangran for the next few weeks. You know she loves to spoil you." I tried to keep the mood light, but I knew it wasn't about the food. 

"I still can't believe you're going," Thormund said, leaning down on his elbow with a bored expression. 

"With Halfdan no less, he's an enemy. What makes you trust him enough to risk going on a ship with him?" Siggy pushed at Thormund's elbow, but it wasn't enough to make his head fall to the table. 

"Watch it," I said before Thormund could retaliate. "I know you don't like me leaving, but it's part of life. We're Viking, and sometimes we have to work together with our enemies to get what we want. Halfdan wouldn't dream of hurting me, because that would mean he'd have a war on his hands the moment we land in England. They would be outnumbered, they would be in enemy territory, and they would lose. I'll be fine on their boat, and you will be fine here." 

"You could've told us he was an enemy sooner," Siggy sneered. "How were we supposed to know you didn't want him over for dinner?"

"It was the last quiet night I could spend with you, of course I didn't want anyone else there. But having to deal with the consequences of your actions is a good lesson to learn. I can assure you though, the minute I get back here it'll be done with your quiet lives. I'll start teaching you about who our enemies are, I can't have you messing up like that again." 

My face was mad at them, but my heart was mad at myself. I should've started easing them into it much sooner. And happy as they were to have something cool to look forward to, it would mean they would have even busier lives. Aside from their daily training, there would be even more lessons from me, helping with the chores, while I was with child and needed more help than before as well...

We'd have to move. Maybe I'd finally have to bite the bullet and get a slave to help out. 

"I thought you would be happier," Freydis said softly. "I don't want you to go." 

I took her in my arms and held her tight. "I don't want to leave you behind, but you're much safer here. Lagertha will protect you, she can teach you so many amazing things. And you have to work on your archery, make sure no one finds out what you're up to. We can't have people running off with the family secrets now, can we? You too, Freydis." 

They still didn't feel like eating. I didn't want to get mad at them for wasting food, not in the last few hours before we departed. 

"You know, I used to have this tradition with your father whenever he left. I would tell him that I would kill him if he died, and then he would promise me he would bring me back something nice. It never failed to get him back to me."

"That was before," Thormund said as he rolled his eyes. 

"We don't do it face to face anymore, but I still vow to the gods that I'll kill him if he dies. He has returned to me every time, and when he gets back he always gives me part of the treasure he brings back home."

"I'll kill you if you die," Freydis said, her eyes sincere, her lips pressed shut tightly. 

"I'll bring you something nice," I said as I pulled her onto my lap. "I love you, my little bean. I always will." Holding her in my arms, I gave in to the nagging tug that pulled on my heart. "What would you like? A nice dress? Or a tiara?"

"I want you to come back. That would be nice." She snuggled up to me, her hands on my stomach, between our bodies. Did she... 

"I can't break my oath, so I'll have to. If anyone takes me prisoner, I'll tell them I have a daughter to come back to. Even the gods won't dare take me away from you."

Freydis started crying, with long, shrieking cries. I had no idea where it came from, but I was glad it came out with me still here. I felt like crying myself. She was only six, how had Bjorn ever managed to leave us? Even with the kingdom on the line, and our family, it was impossible.

The twins got up and joined in on the hug, soothing me along with their sister. 

"It's going to be fine. She'll be back before you know it. I'll miss her, too. You know she can look after herself."

"Don't worry Frey, you'll still have us. We will protect you. You're stronger than you think. We all are."

I didn't want to let go of them. "I love you three so much," I breathed. "I'll be back before you know it, I promise. Nothing in this world can tear us apart, I mean it."

The sounds from outside told me the village was waking up and it was time to go. Holding onto my children for just a moment longer, I took a deep breath. I'd miss them terribly. 

No one was hungry. After we cleared off the breakfast, we headed out. The twins carried most of my stuff, Freydis walking beside me with my sleeping furs piled in her arms. She walked so close to me she almost made me trip, but I didn't mind. I wanted to have her as close to me as I could. Far too soon we reached the ship.

The twins handed off my stuff to one of the oarsmen. They threw it in with the rest. The men smiled as they saw Freydis pop out from under the huge bed furs, brushing a hand over her hair when she'd successfully handed it over. 

I sank to my knees in front of the children. "No drinking while I'm away, you hear? And you listen to grangran, okay? And remember to keep practicing as I showed you, I expect you to be at least half as good as me when I come back."

"We will, mom. Go kick some ass!" Siggy's fake smile broke my heart again. I didn't want to leave her. She needed a mother closeby at her age. Her body changed, she would have to struggle with finding her identity soon. And Thormund, he still had a long way to go where it came to respecting women. 

When I turned to Freydis, her eyes looked old. She carried the weight of the world on her shoulders. She didn't want me to go, but she'd accepted this was my fate. Her eyes spoke of how scared she was for me, and how proud she tried to be of me for leaving anyway. 

I brushed a hand over her cheek. She pushed her lip out, but it shook anyway. "Will you be okay?" I asked her. 

Her voice was soft as the breeze rolling over the fjord. "I had a dream. Your past and future came at you to fight."

If it was just a dream, she would be fine. It was just her fear and never having missed me this long before that tore at her mind. "Did I win?"

"No one did." 

My smile faded. Had she dreamed like Aslaug used to? "I'll be careful if I ever meet them."

She refused to look me in the eye. "You won't. But I hope you come back and will still be my mother." 

Not knowing what to say, I just hugged her. I'd need to think on how to handle her gift, whatever it was. She Saw things, but some things she just knew. Whatever it was, I had to get Bjorn involved in this, as well. 

"Alright, take care of each other. I'll be back before you know it." I hugged the twins a last time, then got on board. It proved to be quite the operation to get everyone boarded, but everyone appeared to be on schedule. Having the boats loaded before today had been a good call, now we only needed to get everyone on the proper ship.

Our ship cast off so the boys and Bjorn could board their ship. The twins said goodbye to them already but barely looked at their father. Freydis whispered something in his ear, but she didn't hug him. I couldn't make it out, but she seemed to be looking at me. 

"Your children seem well raised," Halfdan said. "They don't annoy me the way others do."

I tore my eyes away from my children. "I'll take that as a compliment," I said with a smile. 

"This is only your second raid, is it not?" Harald asked. 

"I was just there to oversee the work on the trebuchets, then I found out I was pregnant and got sent home early." That was when I'd met Erlendur. I would've been better off staying in Paris, despite the detour they made past Horik's family.

"Then I am curious as to why you brought a bow. Do you really plan on fighting?" He eyed it in between my packs.

I nodded in his direction as he looked up. "I mean to avenge Ragnar. I owe my life to him, more than any of you will ever know." 

Halfdan picked up my bow, looking it over. "I heard some things from Bjorn over the years, about how you were found naked in the woods. Ragnar took you in when you were brought before him, right?" His hands slid over the wood, tested the strain on the drawstring. He thought the wood was too flexible. The string was too easy to pull back. They all thought the same when they saw it. "I've never seen one so... short," was his verdict. 

I took the bow back from him, admiring the simple carving. Floki had outdone himself. "I'm rather short myself. A longer one just gets in the way, the way I fight."

"And how do you fight, then?" 

My eyes shot up to his. "Dirty." 

Halfdan laughed, his eyes smiling right along. "I know better than to underestimate you. I'm sure you'll surprise us on the battlefield." 

The ceremony signaled our official departure, but from all the way back here it was barely audible. Harald made sure to navigate his ship all the way to the front of the fleet. He wouldn't let an opportunity pass by where he could be named first. 

I couldn't even make out the twins anymore. It wouldn't do to keep my mind on them while I was gone. Both my heart and my mind were on their way to England, now. 

Our ship kept in the lead, closely followed by Bjorn's flagship. He had insisted on keeping to his father's colors, and to Lagertha's displeasure, I had agreed. They were Bjorn's, now. He stood on the front of the ship, arms crossed as he looked out over the fjord. Floki navigated smoother than our man, and soon he had caught up to me. 

I missed him so much. I couldn't miss him forever. It wasn't worth the risk. "I'll kill you if you die," I whispered. The cold spray of the sea hit me from the side, drawing my attention away from Bjorn. 

Harald stood by my side, a relieved smile on his face. "Nothing like the first day at sea to get a man eager for battle. Come, let's leave these fine men to row us to war. We've got tales to share, no doubt."

Harald pulled out a skin and sat down on the deck, staring at the backs of his men. I joined him, not eager to drink too much alcohol. He told me of his exploits, how he and Halfdan had taken over quite a few more earldoms and kingdoms. Halfdan joined in and had some of his own stories, mostly about taking down scouts and pillaging farms. In turn, I told them stories of battles yet to come, battles that happened over a thousand years to come, going into great depth of the different tactics that were used. 

Soon a small barrel of mead was opened, Harald insisting I joined in after refusing the skin and later asking me about my marksmanship. I was just tipsy enough to want to give a demonstration, but not so much I couldn't aim anymore. I saw Bjorn's boat still sailed close by, and I got a wicked smile on my face. He caught me looking and stared back at me. 

I took my bow in hand and nocked an arrow. 

"Oh no, you can't be serious," Harald said, looking horrified. Bjorn was the commander, the leader of this army. I looked at the sway of the water, noticed the wind in our sails. I waited for the wave to rise to its apex, then let my arrow fly. 

Loud gasps resonated across the boats. Bjorn still stared at me, unflinching. My arrow was stuck in the mast, barely an inch above his head. 

"My boat!" Floki shouted loud enough for his voice to carry to our boat. "My precious boat, how dare you! Who did this!" Bjorn looked up and his head hit my arrow as he did. Anger started to swell in him, and I couldn't help smirking. I tucked my bow away again. Harald and Halfdan laughed with me, offering me more mead. 

"That's not dirty, that's genius," Halfdan half snorted. "Did you see his face?"

"How did you learn to do that? I was sure you'd miss, or hit him."

"I had a lot of free time. Got bored hitting regular targets." I glanced over, seeing Ubbe pull out the arrow. His face was serious. 

I should've have done that. It would get me into trouble with Bjorn as soon as we were on land, and I'd shown two enemies no less the secret I'd been keeping for years. Why had I felt the need to prove myself?

Harald was still raving on. "You have to show me how to do that; if I had archers like that..."

"You'd have no problem overthrowing Bjorn," I said with one eyebrow raised. 

His mood fell back to pensive. "Aye, I imagine so."

After only a few days at sea, we reached land. With seagulls flying overhead, we started making camp. I busied myself with making food, steering well clear from Bjorn. He could decide how to set up the camp perfectly by himself. Besides, it was about time he spent some time teaching the boys something useful again. 

It was good to spend some time with Helga again, too. We busied ourselves making food as Bjorn ordered people around, getting his servants to tend to his tent. Another thing we'd have to discuss. Something I would likely bend on, next time it came up. The twins were already a handful, and a young child would cause so much chaos. 

Tanaruz stood by in a corner. I didn't bother asking Helga why she wanted to the girl here, not with my plan to get back Bjorn. I knew how she felt.

"How's she doing?" I asked. 

"She's still quiet. I think she's a bit homesick." 

I knew for sure the girl wanted nothing more than to go back to Spain. "Have you had any luck talking to her?"

"Not really. But she seems a bit more settled in." 

"Do you want me to try and talk to her?"

"I'm not sure what good it will do, but if you want to try..." Her eyes were sad. She didn't want to admit that she needed help taking care of one girl, not when I took care of three. 

I grabbed some carrots and walked over to her, holding my open hand in front of her. She seemed hesitant, but as I ate one myself she tried one for herself. As she recognized the taste, she ate it all. She looked at me expectantly, thinking I wanted something from her. I held out my hand, nodding towards the beach. Tanaruz didn't take my hand, but she was willing to walk with me. Some privacy was probably a good idea after having spent so much time on a boat, stuck in Helga's embrace. 

I sat down on the sand, Tanaruz following my lead. Despite my quiet demeanor, she was still skittish. I started drawing in the sand, hoping I could get her to do the same. She didn't join in, but her eyes watched my every line and curve.

I drew a stick figure image of my family, including Bjorn. I pointed at the smaller figure next to him, then pointed at myself. She seemed to understand. Then I drew Floki and Helga, and a small baby next to it, followed by a cross next to it, indicating the baby had died. Next to Helga's family, I drew a stick figure, then pointed at Tanaruz. 

She hesitated for a moment, then drew a stick figure for a woman wearing a veil. Then she hesitated again and threw a little sand over the mother figure. This must have meant her mother died. I repeated the symbol over the small baby, then pointed at Helga, my head, and then made a line between the sandy Tanaruz and Helga. Tanaruz shook her head, though I knew she understood. I drew a house around Floki and Helga, then put my hand against my chest. Home is where the heart is. Floki and Helga love you. 

Tanaruz erased the line and drew a house around her figure, drawing other stick figures around her. She wanted to go home, she had people who could take care of her. My heart went out to her. Although Helga might have had the best intentions, she had ripped the girl away from everything she knew and everyone she loved. 

"Ragnhild," I heard Bjorn say. "I have to talk to you." 

I looked up at him, then back at Tanaruz. I didn't want to leave her alone when she was so obviously sad, but I couldn't ignore Bjorn. Tanaruz longingly looked out over sea.

I got up and walked the short distance to Bjorn. He had his arms crossed over his chest and did not seem happy. "What is it?" I asked.

"What the hell were you thinking, firing that arrow at me? You could have hit me. You could have killed me." He sounded more irritated than angry. Was that a good sign?

"But I didn't. I knew where that arrow would fly."

"No one can aim an arrow that straight on an open sea."

I choked back a scoff. I'd been tipsy, too. "I can. I've been training on it for years. I had to find a way to cope with the anger, and this is how I did it."

"You're mad?"

"I'm not mad, I'm angry."

Bjorn scoffed, cocking his head. "At what?"

"At you."

His stare intensified. "Why?"

It was hard to keep back the emotions it brought up. Last night, under a starry sky, I'd made up my mind. I'd not hold back from the start. If he asked, I'd be vulnerable. "Because you only see me as the mother of your children. Because I feel like you only disagree with me on how to raise them to try and hurt me. Because you have moved on so easily. Because you're fine, and I'm not. Pick any one of those reasons." 

"You think I'm fine? You think I have moved on? How could I, when you haven't released me from my vows for so long? I want to, but you keep dragging it out. Don't act like you don't want to divorce me now the children aren't here." 

My anger fell away. Things were so different now; I couldn't cling to those old thoughts anymore. "When I look at you, I can still see the man I fell in love with. I can still remember the way you used to touch me and kiss me. Even after all these years. You will always be the father of my children, but for so long I wanted you to be more. For such a long time you were. You can't blame me for wanting to hold on to that as long as I do. Or did." 

Bjorn was silent. 

I'd overdone it. I'd shared too much, too soon. He wasn't ready to hear these things from me. Six days out at sea hadn't been enough to prepare me for this moment. 

"I need you to scout ahead. There's a road nearby leading west. Halfdan will go with you."

Without as much as a glance in his direction, I got up and turned towards the camp. "I'll get ready."


	27. Leap of Faith

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-05-815

Halfdan waited for me near the freshly constructed entrance to the camp. Judging by his look he wasn't too keen on having me along for the ride. "Are you fucking kidding me? You didn't even change."

I glanced down, seeing nothing wrong with what I was wearing. From what I could see the vegetation was less wild than back home, I'd be fine in a dress. "What did you do to get stuck with me? Am I a punishment of some sort?"

"You don't want to know," he sighed. "Let's get this over with. What do you know about scouting?"

He didn't want to tell me. Was he ashamed? "Assume I heard a lot of stories about it," I said as I pulled a leather thong from a pocket. Halfdan shot me a disgusted look as I started to braid my hair. 

"Stories. Right. And what did those stories tell you?"

"Be still. Don't leave tracks for others to follow. Watch for signs of a presence."

"Don't wear gods-damned dresses," he spat. "Did Loki put you up to that? I can't believe he tricked me into this, I'll get back at him one day." 

Hearing someone rant about Bjorn was just what I needed. I needed to hear I wasn't the only one who thought Bjorn could be an asshole. Feeling this vulnerable again was almost painful. "In case you forgot, I'm not Bjorn's biggest supporter either. What did he do?"

Halfdan scowled at me, then the corner of his lip relaxed. "He asked me for my best scout. Said he had a special assignment."

I smirked, not feeling sorry for him one bit. "Hook, line, and sinker. What does he expect you to do?"

"I have to teach you everything I know. In one day. Can't have the Vessel making a mistake, after all."

I sighed. Some part of me had hoped he'd stop calling me Vessel. "No, imagine that." Was Bjorn worried for my reputation, or my well-being?

"So I figured, you take the lead. I'll correct you when you do something wrong or miss a sign." That sounded like trouble waiting to happen. 

I could identify a few odd plants and trees, but I never hunted for tracks before. "What are we even looking for?" I bent down to study the grass, my fingers still twirling strands of hair.

Halfdan closed his eyes for a second. "Why didn't you ask him?"

"Because he told me I'd go with you. I trusted you would know, seeing you're the best scout we have."

His face shriveled up like a raisin. "You two deserve each other."

My own mood soured as he walked off, before my braid was even done. Maybe I should've had it braided before I left Kattegat, but I hated sleeping with my hair still up. I'd get Helga to do it for me, she would understand what kind of updo I needed to keep it out of the way.

"This is not me taking the lead," I said as I tried to catch up. Halfdan's legs were longer than mine, damn it. It left me scurrying after him. "Do you have any signs or sounds I should know about? Halfdan, slow down." 

He kept on going until we were out of sight from the camp. I just needed to tie off my braid and I would be fine, but as Halfdan turned around I saw he was angry with me. 

"I am trying to find a good spot to start from, but you keep yapping and yapping. Are you going to be this talkative all the while? Because if so, you can get your ass back to camp right now. This isn't a joke, Ragnhild. If you screw up out there, we will die. I have no desire to die because of some mistake you made." 

I slung my braid over my shoulder, letting a calm fall over me. If Halfdan wanted me to be serious, I'd show him just how serious I could be. He wouldn't know what hit him. 

"Do you think I came here to die? I mean to live. I mean to grow old with all those I love around me when I slip off to Folkfangr. I need some information before we start, so you best start talking if you don't want to die beside me today. I need to understand why things are done, and from there I can follow along. You're not even letting me follow."

He sniffed, then looked away. 

"I know you're pissed over having to be my teacher, but so am I for Bjorn not wanting me to interfere with the layout of the camp. Do you think he only wanted to put you down a peg?"

"What do you mean?" Halfdan eyed me curiously.

"He needs to look in charge from the start, and having me out of sight will do that. Having me off with you means he can see just how loyal you are to the cause at the same time. Didn't you realize? He's keeping everyone at a distance so he can shine as the rightful heir of Ragnar." 

He chewed on my words, taking me in with a look that was sure to be meant to intimidate. "We're due east from about here. We're moving linear across a perimeter of about three miles, out of sight from the road that runs past the coast. We're looking for anything at all that could give us away. That includes villages, farms, children running around, riders. They wear black armor and carry no banners if they're from Ecbert, regular chainmail with the red of fresh blood if they're Aelle's."

"Unless they're scouting themselves, then they won't carry a banner at all. Any distinguishing signs for known lords that you recall? Triangles, squares? There's one with a sun I know of." 

Halfdan waved his hand around. "Those change like the seasons. We have to know where we have landed and if we're in immediate danger." 

I nodded, seeing the sense in his words. He was different from the merchants who talked of their homeland. Halfdan knew from experience how it was to raid, I didn't have to infer so much myself from their tales. Going on the type of stories Halfdan usually shared about his scouting, Bjorn might've just tried to scare me into staying back in the camp during all of this.

The dunes were plentiful. We weren't too far south, there were cliffs there. How far along the coast did those run? The sky was filled with gulls hardly getting through the air as the wind was too strong for them, it blew to the north. With the sun ready to set we'd have to hurry to cross as much distance as we could. 

The path to the east was overgrown with thick vegetation, but a little to our right was a dirt road. It looked to be traveled, bending off away from camp. That was good, though I didn't know why they would build a road past this stretch. 

Behind us stood a huge overgrown field. I turned towards it and saw the grass was overgrowing man-made rocks. A building had once stood here, not ten feet from where Halfdan had taken me. 

"Ragnhild?" His voice told me he'd hoped I would catch this. 

"Sentry post? No, the base is too wide. Shed? Idyllic seaside residence? The land doesn't seem to be worked around here..." I watched the grass and where it grew higher, seeing a very, very faint outline of what was about twice the size of my house. "Roadside inn. We're at least half a day's ride off from anywhere worthwhile." I turned to Halfdan, who gave me an appreciative smile. 

"It's why we decided to make camp a little ways off. Can you see how many men were here when we decided that?" 

I'd been so happy to have steady land under my feet again that I'd lain down on the sand for a good fifteen minutes. I hadn't thought to be wary of my surroundings then, I'd have to infer it from the environment. 

Were there any footprints? Broken helms of grass? Or someone with a nervous habit, pulling at the strands? They had been careful. If they left a trace at all they had gone through some effort to hide it. Either way, I was eager to show Halfdan just what I was worth.

I put a foot on some moss, leaning on it, then stepped back. A full-grown man would leave a bigger imprint, but my own weight made the moss veer up and down. An example of what to look for would be priceless at this time, but I couldn't make much from it. The recent rain had made it impossible to discern much. Trampling around myself would only make it worse, the local lord would have scouts that were trained better than me. 

"I honestly have no idea how many men were here before me," I said as I turned around to face Halfdan. He smirked as if he'd guessed as much. "Rain washed away whatever was here, so it can't be that busy. Judging by the grass it's been recent, so we're at a quiet part of the land at least. We would've heard something by now otherwise."

"You barely looked around."

"I don't know where to look. Or would you like me to leave a lot of marks myself, for the Saxons to find?"

He shrugged. "Eh. At least you have common sense. You won't get me killed. Let's go." 

I shifted my bow around. I wasn't used to carrying it across my shoulder. It kept getting stuck on my quiver. "Just like that? Won't you tell me the answer? What to look out for?" 

"And what would be the fun in that? Just stick behind me, stretch your legs a bit. It'll help you sleep."

I wasn't satisfied with this simple brushing off, but it would have to do. I couldn't expect him to teach me all he knew in a few minutes. He wouldn't give away all of his secrets. We were still enemies, deep at heart. "So what happened to you following me and pointing out all of my mistakes?"

"Shh." 

I hated when they did that. 

Halfdan walked to the edge of the trees and bent down. He brushed a hand over a patch of dune grass; the helms looked cracked. The tips had gone a dark yellow, that wasn't fresh. As he looked back at me, I shook my head, face full of doubt. He nodded and continued walking, the first few paces slow as if he was waiting for me to ask him about it. 

Halfdan turned around, glanced at me, then narrowed his eyes with a scowl and turned back. 

This was where the quiet zone would start. 

"Halfdan," I whispered, "what if I see something that you missed?" 

He snorted as he kept on walking. I followed in his prints as best I could through the sandy patches that lingered between the forest-like undergrowth, muffling his heavy boot prints with my soft leather soles. Those I might've changed, but I got around in the forest just fine back home on these. It was but a detail at this point. I doubted we'd run into real trouble.

The trees looked familiar. The birds that sang sounded like back home, as well. The old home, from the time we took regular holidays to the British isle. I could've been here before, centuries in the future. My father had taught me to recognize some of the songs. Overhead were magpies, daring to get close to the gulls. Those birds would give us away before any soldier would. I'd have to warn Bjorn about those, gulls were scavengers. They would let their mother be captured to get their beaks on a snack. Not to mention their shit was corrosive.

As the pace Halfdan set slowed down a bit, I relaxed. He knew what he was doing. I had to... Trust him, as strange as it made me feel. This was interesting, to say the least. 

I'd never seen him this conscientious about anything, either. Battle changed a man, that much I knew. After Ubbe's first raid he had gotten a whole new perspective on life as well. Hvitserk had not changed much after that one town, but he would grow more serious during this campaign, as would Sigurd and Ivar. This was their first time raiding, after all. 

Halfdan was different, though. He changed before the battle, his personality seemed to don armor of its own. The flashes I saw of his face showed a frown thick with concentration, all the things I had missed whenever we met for important talks. This was his passion, what he lived for. Sniffing out rats and biting them to death with his bare teeth. Learning about his enemies, finding new ones to kill. The rush of the kill, that I could understand. 

He'd never see it coming, if I would shoot him in the back now. Nor would he hear until the string of my bow thrummed, it would be the last thing he heard. Neck shot or ribs? I'd get through leather and bones at this distance. 

He jerked his head at a sound; I hadn't even heard a thing myself. It came from the direction of the road. As he froze, reached out for his knife, I got out my bow, equally as slow. He cast me a curious look, gesturing towards my hips. No belt. No knife. Just the bow. 

As if I could use a knife against an up-close opponent. I had a better chance of seducing them. Bjorn knew that. Having me out here with just a bow and Halfdan had been a mistake. One I hadn't caught myself, either. I hadn't thought to actually run into someone. 

Halfdan pushed himself against a tree. I followed his lead, keeping my bow poised in the long shadows of the trees. This was it. 

I'd get to kill someone, and no one would judge me for it. I would see their blood spill, draining their clothes from the puncture wound I would leave. In my mind, the arrow went straight through, with the recurved design of my bow I might just be able to do that. 

I barely contained a gasp as I heard leaves rustling. 

"Could've sworn I saw something," a man said in English. 

"Must've been a shadow. We've been at it far too long, that old goat is losing his mind." 

The accent... I couldn't place it. It would change too much over the next millennium. 

"Let's head back, it's about time for supper."

Two voices. They would die as soon as their footsteps told me they had turned around. Halfdan made eye contact, staring at me as we waited for probably the same moment. As much as I wanted to jump out and kill one, he was the one with more experience killing people. I waited for his signal.

A jerking gesture with his head was followed by him taking a step forward. I followed his lead, taking down the one on the right, an arrow pointing out from the back of his neck as he fell down. The one on the left grunted as he sank, a knife sticking in his rib cage, straight through his mail. Bad iron? Or was Halfdan just that good? 

A third, horrified face watched as his comrades fell to the floor at almost the same time. He shouted, loudly, for a second. Then he got struck by an arrow in his chest and a knife to the face. 

"There's more around," Halfdan said as he sprinted over, pulling his knives from his victims. I looked on ahead, towards the road, seeing nothing happening yet. Had the third man been a coward? Or were there more? 

Thunder came towards us. Hoofbeats, more than a few. Too many. 

"Riders," Halfdan said, weighing his options as he glanced at me. 

"About eight," I said as I removed my quiver from my back. "We can't let them reach the roadhouse, they'll see the gulls circling above our camp."

"What are you doing?" Halfdan asked as I walked up to him and grabbed one of his knives from his hands. 

"Buying you time. There's a camp close by." Judging by the sun, it wasn't that far from dinnertime.

I screamed, a high-pitched sound that startled Halfdan as he looked on with a morbid fascination. A few hacking cuts and my braid hung limply in my hand. I shoved it in his hands, along with the knife, then tore at the bodice of my dress. 

"What are you waiting for? Get the fuck back to camp. I'll be back before the fourth dawn. If not... I'm probably dead. Go." I shoved at his shoulder before I turned to the road.

I ran towards the edge of the trees, screaming my lungs out. Before I even hit the road I could see the riders, almost upon me. I had to stall them; Halfdan needed a head start. The camp needed to be aware of them. 

"Help me!" I shouted, feeling panic without having to pretend. What the fuck was I supposed to do to stall them? How was I to get away, myself? Fuck!

"Who goes there!" One of the men drew a sword. I reconsidered my plan to hide behind their horses. 

Pure desperation took hold of me, stopping my hands from raising up as if I were under arrest. Shaking, revulsion searing through my veins, I made a cross with my hand. Then a second, and a third. It was enough to make me sick. 

Death before dishonor. That's what Bjorn always told me raiding was about. It was why he'd left me when I was pregnant with Kol. It helped him pack his things and go off to distant shores. It was at the center of his being. But I couldn't think like that, not when I had my children to think of. I had made them a promise, and I would be damned if I didn't keep it. I would never let anyone think of me as an oath breaker.

"You fool! Why would you threaten a woman!" A rider came forward, scolding the one who had unsheathed his sword to threaten me. "Can't you see she is in need of our help?"

The relief overwhelmed me. The soldier's sword lowered. My gamble had paid off. Halfdan would make it back to camp, everyone would be safe for at least another day. They'd never find him before he'd get a force together to butcher any scouts still out there.

"My fair lady, my sincerest apologies. How may we be of assistance?" 

Fuck. I'd need a good reason to be out here by myself, torn dress and all. It was clear to them I wasn't from the isle, my accent was too thick for that. Fuck, fuck, fuck... 

The leader came down from his horse, he was about the same length as Halfdan. Hazel eyes, kind, trusting. Not a bad bone in his body, but he was inquisitive as well. He'd swallow a half lie.

"I... There was..." I swallowed, wrapping my arms around myself. Fuck. I'd have to tell him at least part of what was happening if I wanted to make it out alive. "Northmen," I whispered. 

The men all sat up straight, their armor clanging as they moved. They were heavily armed for a small party. Had they somehow known already?

"Northmen? Pirates?" 

I nodded, trying my best to keep from making it worse than it was. Sigurd's face came to mind, he and his brothers had to be kept safe, too. 

"A... One tried to - he wanted..." 

The soldier reached out a hand, letting it brush through my hair. His glove came back with a hint of blood. Halfdan's knife hadn't been clean. The man looked back and gestured for his men to comb the area. Fuck. What if they found his tracks?

"You're safe now. Please, allow me to escort you to our camp. We'll find the one who attacked you, and bring him a swift justice." The man extended his arm. Fuck! If I would decline he would know something was up. I'd be trapped there until I could free myself. "I will make sure no harm will come to you, as God is my witness." 

I was taking too long. It was now or never, go along or die on the spot. 

I took his hand.


	28. Charlemnage's Progeny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-05-815

The boys would be worried sick. If they were to disappear as I had, and then have Halfdan tell me they ran out towards the enemy, unarmed, I would want to kill him. I'd acted too rashly, this was all my fault. I had to get myself out, and fast. 

Halfdan would tell them not to worry until the fourth day. I hadn't even known why I'd said it, but now that I had time to think about it I remembered a book I once read. The first night they would expect me to escape, then the second they would turn a bit lax... And the third I could break free without having to deal with suspicious guards. They would never expect me to make a run for it, but I had to be certain I wouldn't get myself killed. 

"Where are you from?" The man asked as we waited for the others to return from their own scouting mission. 

"Ghent," I replied, knowing I didn't speak Frankish well enough to get away with it when they asked. I could fake a Flemish accent with a few German words in there. I hoped. "My husband was a merchant. We were on our way to Francia when we got overtaken by a Viking ship. They killed - they murdered him in front of my eyes." I shrank away, letting the man pat me on the shoulder. He looked confused. 

"Did they hurt you?" Had he known who I was, he would've wasted no time raping me and leaving me for dead. 

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Forgive me, I only worried... We'll get you to safety right away." He whistled loudly, startling me. "Apologies, ma'am. I'll... We'll get going straight away, my father will make sure you get home to your family. It's our Christian duty to protect those who are part of the herd, after all." 

I didn't know if I felt relieved or not. As the men trickled out of the woods, grim expressions on their faces, I knew they had found the bodies. The third body had two types of lethal wounds. If these men were worth half their salt, they would realize there'd been two enemies.

I craned my neck, trying to see, but the man behind me gestured wildly with his arm. 

"We need to bring the lady back to safety!" He called in a clear voice. Command came natural to him. "I'll hear your reports when we get back. This is no place for a woman." He turned around his horse even before his men had climbed on theirs. He knew there were bodies, but somehow he wanted to keep it from me?

Of course. He wasn't used to women being capable of handling things. To him, I was a blubbering mess of hormones and emotions. I had to remember that. 

I shied away as he reached around me to grab hold of the reins with both arms. "Sir..." 

"We'll have you safe before sundown. You can rest in the camp, and bathe. My father will provide you with all you need to rest comfortably." 

"You - your father?"

"Lord Aethelbrith. I'm his son, Alden." 

"Lord Alden," I breathed, racking my brain to try and remember anything I might have heard about him. All these people were called Aethel-something, and there weren't any traders from Northumbria daring the cross towards Kattegat. The ones from Wessex were more daring, and more than happy to teach me a bit more English each time they came by. We were either on the border with Mercia to Wessex or North Umbria. 

"We've but a small fiefdom, my lady. We rule over the western lands of Lincolnshire." Barely Northumbria. Thank the gods. The further we'd be from Ecbert, the better.

"Apologies, my lord. I've not the mind for cities and their whereabouts." 

"Not at all. May I ask your name?" 

Half lies work best. Half lies work best. Half lies work best. For the children, for Freydis. For my little sprout. 

"Maria," I whispered, shifting around in Alden's grasp. It was a pretentious name for this day and age, even in these parts of Europe. 

"I beg your pardon?" 

"My name is Maria," I insisted, looking down at the ground as it passed us by. 

"Forgive me, but isn't that name given to the sisters of a convent? You said you had a husband..." 

Fuck. I had no idea if that was true or not. Had I messed up already? By Odin, I was a fool to think I could pull this off. 

"Although..." Alden tensed up himself now, shouting at his men and sending his horse off flying. He wanted to get me to that camp fast. I had to get out of his grasp, somehow. The sooner, the better. 

"Forgive me, princess," he whispered. 

What, now? I glanced up at the sky, knowing there must have been a god or two watching my back. My breath grew ragged in glee. "Alden," I spoke, not sure what it was I wanted to say. 

"I did not mean to reveal your secret. My father will make sure you return to Francia. Please forgive my brashness. It will not happen again. And worry not, you are safe from the clutches of Ecbert. I know how he killed the old king. He was a grandson of Charlemagne and a dear friend to our King Aelle. My king will not refuse asylum to another descendant of the greatest king that ever lived. This I know for a fact."

I glanced back, seeing Alden was perfectly sincere. This was only getting worse. His father was bound to know more, he would sniff me out in a second. How had I gotten myself into this mess? Normally I'd speak the truth, but this wasn't one of those times it could make my life easier. At best, it would cut my life short.

"Alden, I beg of you. Keep still about who I am. I need to return home, but I can't have these events known to anyone. My future would be ruined." I put my hand on his wrist, an awfully familiar gesture. But I was desperate. Alden had to keep his mouth shut. "Nothing happened with that Viking, but the mere implication..."

"Of course, my lady. As you say. I will do whatever I can to help, by the grace of God."

Breathing a little easier, I waited for the camp to show up. If it was a small one I could hope to escape under cover of night, but if it was too large I might just have to wait to be rescued. Would that even happen, after my brave words to Halfdan? I'd told him to assume I was dead if I didn't come back in three days.

The sun started to disappear behind the glowing, tree-spotted hills, turning a bright orange. Its light stained the grass, and the trees. The wind that blew over the field made me restless. If the gods were with me, they had heard me proclaiming myself a Christian. They would want their due. They would demand a sacrifice, and it would have to be a marvelous one, indeed. 

The fortress Alden took me to appeared to be made by children. The wooden slats were barely a wall, and the wall was barely enough to keep prying eyes out. 

"You mean to keep me safe in a place like that?" I asked. 

"Fear not, we have brave men keeping you safe. We have over three hundred men here, all willing to lay down their lives for you. Your Highness." 

"None of that," I whispered, my voice a lot cooler. I had only meant to fish for information, not have him thinking he should address me like royalty. "I apologize, I did not mean to raise my voice. Ever since my capture I've been... Worried." 

"It must have been horrible, what they did to you. If there is anything I can do to make you more at ease..."

What would a princess ask for? "I need a moment to myself, if possible. A decent dress would be nice, and a hot bath." 

"I'll see to it personally." 

He slowed down his horse as he entered the camp, many a head looking up as they realized the men had picked up a straggler. Alden started shouting commands as he got off his horse, calling for oats, men to mobilize, his father to be alerted to the guest he had brought, and only then turned to me. Holding out his arms, he made it clear I was to let myself slide off the horse. 

"My father will want to see you before you retire to your tent," he said apologetically, holding onto my waist for a second longer than was proper. "My apologies. If you want to hold up your cover..." 

"I understand. Thank you, Alden. You saved my life once before, already you have shown your valor many times over." Still, I took a step back to break our contact. 

"It was my honor," he said with an attempt at a slight head nod. He caught himself just in time. "If... If you'll follow me..." 

I paid attention to the clumsy way he spoke and behaved, wanting to learn more about how he thought I was supposed to be treated and how he had to act to keep up my charade. The men who had traveled with us noticed something was up, but they didn't say a word. They were loyal to Alden, he was well-respected. The rest of the camp openly stared, and as I glanced back I saw why. I was the only woman in sight. 

Barbaric pricks. If they would have let their women fight alongside them they would have stood a chance, perhaps. We'd run these bastards through without a second thought. 

The largest tent in the camp, oddly enough at a corner of the camp, was closed with a heavy brown drape. Alden moved it to the side and shot me another apologetic look as he went in first, holding the curtain for me to pass through after him. I'd made a mention of his face already had we been anywhere else. This boy was ridiculously conscious of his lack of etiquette. It didn't matter as much as he thought it did... Or I was in for one rude awakening myself. 

"Alden, you returned early I see." The man who spoke wore a richly embroidered tunic, dyed red. His mop of dark curls covered his fat head. I wasn't used to seeing relatively young men who were out of shape like this, good leaders always fought at the front of the lines. At about forty he should have been in pique shape, or at the least be short an arm or a leg. 

"Father. I did, we chanced upon this woman as we made our round. This is, err... She's from Ghent, I think. I haven't been able to ask her for her name. She doesn't speak our language well." 

"What of it? I know I asked you to pick a wife, but she looks a bit old. You need an heir, not a pet." 

By the gods, let Thor strike him down for that comment. 

"She was attacked," Alden said as he stepped forward. "Father, she was clearly attacked. She came running towards us from the forest, someone cut her hair." 

Alden had fucked up. I wasn't able to speak now without proving him a liar, and then the whole truth would come forward. Amateur. 

"A farm girl like her?"

"She's not a farm girl," Alden insisted. "She... All of you, get out. Now." 

He only made it worse. Now there would surely be nothing but rumors as to my identity floating around, if only because the men who had been with us knew I spoke English. Still, the main objective now was to convince Alden's father to help me out. I wouldn't be able to leave here without Alden clinging to me to protect me either way, I was trapped in between his lies and mine. 

"Father, she's not a farm girl. She was attacked, her ship was boarded by pirates. I cannot tell you who she is, but I assure you, you want to allow me to help her."

"What is this nonsense! Have you lost your mind? We're about to receive important company here! We're doing the Lord's work!" He would never get through to his father without a half lie to swallow. 

"Alden," I spoke softly, approaching them both. His father looked down at me as if I were a dog that started talking all of a sudden. "I cannot ask you to lie for me like this, not to your father."

Alden looked confused, more than anything. "Your Highness..." 

"What is going on here?" the father demanded. "Alden, who is that woman?" 

"She's..." After an encouraging nod, he spilled the beans. "She's from Ghent. She asked me to keep silent on what happened to her, the implications alone... She's a great-grandchild of the late king Charlemagne. Her name is Maria." 

The man nearly died, so pale did he get. He put a hand on the table beside him as if to hold onto life itself. "Your Highness," he said, eyes wide as he took me in. I turned to Alden, who grew intent. 

"Father, no one can know she is here. It would surely ruin her reputation if anyone knew what has befallen her. She wants to return home as soon as possible, and I have every intention of holding to the vow I swore to defend her honor."

"But... My son, how did she..." 

I had to keep control of the narrative. They would have no trouble believing me, judging by their faces. For all my fears, it seemed they were eager to believe every word I said. "My ship was attacked by marauding Northmen," I said softly, casting my eyes down. "My husband was killed... They took me along, but then they beached their ship nearby. It's just the one vessel, I don't know why they chose to land here..." 

"Then we must warn the king," the father said. 

Of course, it couldn't be this easy. 

"Sir, I beg of you... They are cruel and cunning, but it's only one ship. If word gets out I am here and one of their ships is, too... Nothing happened, but the mere implications could ruin me." I glanced behind me, not certain who might be listening in. 

Alden immediately moved to my side, ready to help me in whatever way he could. His father was of a different mind, starting to talk in French. I barely understood a word. 

"I beseech you, my lord. No one must know I am here." 

"Father, this isn't the time. She has asked me to provide her with some privacy, and a bath. I vowed to make sure she gets home safe and sound, I cannot break a promise to God. Please consider the consequences to her if word gets out she was attacked by a Viking." 

The lord came to his senses, at last. 

"You mean to put her interests above that of your country?" 

"I ask no such thing, my lord," I said before Alden could speak up. "All I ask is for my true identity to remain hidden, and a quiet place where I might grieve over the loss of my husband." If this wouldn't work, I'd never see Bjorn again. As much as part of me hated him, I couldn't have our last words be spoken in anger. He didn't even know...

Would they let me live long enough to give birth if they found out? Would I finally get my wish and die at the birth of my child? It sounded like something the gods were capable of. Just how much protection did I have, being the vessel of Freyja? How much could I get away with before they'd had enough? 

"I'll bring you to my tent," Alden said, extending his arm for me to take hold of. He flashed a confident smile, ignoring the grunts of his father. 

"Only if it's not too much trouble," I insisted. 

"Not at all, my lady. Not at all."


	29. Bed, Bath, and Bread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 17-05-815

The warm water sloshing around the tub did little to soothe my mind, even with the oils one of the women had added to the bath. Getting them to leave me alone before I undressed had been difficult, but I couldn't let them see the tattoos on my skin. Having them hover around made me nervous enough, I needed some space to think.

Alden would do whatever I needed him to do, but his father was a disaster waiting to happen. He would sooner betray a vow to God than his country. Either way, I had to be careful. I hated having to wait around, but in the meanwhile, I could gather information. The voices from outside were too faint to make out, but judging by the way Alden's tent was set up this was a more permanent camp than I had thought. 

The defenses made little sense, though. It was done hastily, and might even be in a state of disrepair. There had been tensions between North Umbria and Ecbert a few years back, was this one of the posts where they thought to be attacked? It made sense to have some perimeter defense around the coast with all manner of Vikings around.

I rippled the water with my arms, moving them underneath the surface of the water. Ivar would have noticed the posts on his last trip here. He would've shared that information had he known, Ragnar must have noticed and pointed it out. Or had they only landed in Wessex? I'd have to ask if I would ever make it out. Ivar could know things he didn't even know were relevant.

"Why are you not with her?" 

I perked my ears, hearing Alden talking to one of the women that had stuck around. I rose from the water, lingering would not make this any better. The blankets they used here seemed softer, despite this being a military camp. Strange. What had Alden said? His father was the lord of Lincolnshire? When had that been established? Was this the beginning of it? It wouldn't be the first time a settlement grew from a camp like this. His father knew how to speak French, though... There was some form of education in his family, perhaps a disgraced family member had lost their previous estate?

"She asked us to leave her be. We obeyed her wishes, my lord Alden. We even insisted. The lady will call out when she has need of our assistance."

And they had better keep to that promise. I didn't ravel in anyone seeing me naked, not these god-fearing Saxons. They were beneath me, in every sense of the word. Their god was worse than false, he was disgusting and misguiding. I dried myself off, not wanting to get caught unaware. 

"This is highly unusual," Alden said, indignified over the mere notion of bathing alone. Just imagine what I might do all by myself, the same day he saved me from a Viking who had probably wanted to rape me? 

"Apologies, m'lord. I'll go check on her immediately."

Shit. 

I wrapped the towel around myself as best I could, water still dripping down. Fucking assholes, as if I wasn't entitled to a little privacy every now and then. What I did in private was my business, not theirs. 

"My lady." The woman had her eyes downcast as she came in, remaining in a curtsy as I took her in. 

"I thought I asked you to give me a moment to myself," I said as I picked at my hair, hoping against all odds the mark on my back was covered.

"His lordship wanted me to ask if everything was to your liking." I wanted to yell at her, but she merely followed orders. Slave or not, I still remembered what it was like to serve. 

"A clean dress would be nice. As long as it doesn't smell it should be better than what I came in with." 

"Right away, my lady. I'll send someone in to dry you off."

"No," I said as I took a step towards her. The distance between us was too short to hide my horror. "I beg of you, just... Just the dress, please. I've been through some hardship, and... There are some marks..." 

Her eyes went wide, lips parting a bit before she jumped up. 

"Yes, of course. Goodness me... I'll see to it myself. If... If you need any help, I won't tell a soul."

That's what I feared she would do. According to her, I didn't have a soul, and according to me, souls weren't real. There were only our body and our spirit, two parts of one being. Neither could survive without the other. Bjorn had taught me that.

Would he be worried about me? If he had been the one to go missing like this, I'd be worried sick. He hadn't shown me a shred of how he felt about me before we left. I didn't want to, but it consumed my thoughts. It rattled me worse than I wanted, to the point I didn't even notice the woman returning with a clean dress. 

"My lady?" 

I looked up from the fur that had captured my eyes. Its color was the same as the cloak Bjorn had worn during the trip over. The dress that she had brought was simple, like the one she wore herself. It was perfect, though a little constricting. 

"Oh, thank you. I'm so sorry, I... My mind was elsewhere. I'll take it from here, thank you." 

"Are you certain you'll be fine?"

"Yes, perfect. Perfectly. Thank you." 

I watched her leave, then moved to the side of the tent where no one would be able to peek inside from behind the improvised screens. I had no desire to have anyone stare at me from a peeping hole past the curtains. 

I was used to having my dresses a bit roomier. These women were hardly used to manual labor, by the looks of it. The fabric felt tight around my hips and my chest. Then again, the skirts were too long. It would have to do, it wasn't like I had time to have it adjusted to my needs. And as for my hair... 

I left the bathing area of the tent and went looking for the woman. She wasn't around apparently, but Alden was. He looked up as he heard me approach. 

"Maria," he said as he got up, taking me in as he saw me for who I was underneath the week's worth of dirt and salty residue from the ocean spray. "Your hair, it's a disgrace to defile a woman that way. If you want, I can have someone bring you a cap. I can imagine...

"That would be wonderful," I said softly, lowering my eyes. I had to be more demure, I'd just gone over it. "Thank you, Alden. For everything. I never meant for you to lie to your father." 

"Aethelbrith is devout to king and country, and he must have been smitten with your presence. It's not often we see a princess in these parts. Come, let us join him for supper. You must be hungry."

I let him guide me back to the main tent, where his father was already waiting for us. As would be the case at court, I was to sit at the lord's left-hand side, Alden to his right. To my surprise, there was another seat at the table, to my own left. 

"Are you expecting company?" I asked as I was handed a glass of wine. The little sprout couldn't fare well with all I had been drinking already. I couldn't risk its health anymore. 

"The bishop of Jorvik sent word he would arrive around dusk. He's an old friend, and no doubt wouldn't want us to wait for his arrival. You must be famished. Please, allow me." The lord gestured for the servants to come forth with the dishes they had prepared, lifting the domes in synchrony. Underneath were two whole chickens, roasted of course, with vegetables and bread that looked fresh. 

I had no idea what the eating customs here were, or at Ghent, or wherever they seemed to think I was from. I'd betray myself faster than a heathen at mass. 

"Father," Alden whispered, making me acutely aware of how long I'd been staring at the dish. 

"It's quite alright, we can trust those around us. There doesn't need to be any secret here in my own camp, under my own roof," Aethelbrith insisted. 

My eyes locked with the serving woman, whose eyes went wide. Damn spies, they were everywhere. Was she one of Aelle's? Or some other petty lordling fighting over scraps?

"I was raised to be a gracious guest," I said, putting on a somewhat painful smile, begging someone to help me out of this mess before I made a faux-pas. 

"If it pleases my lady, the girls have spent hours on this roast," the lord said. All fine and dandy, but did he truly expect me to cut it thing up myself? That didn't seem right in any universe. 

"It smells delicious," I had to admit. 

That seemed to be the magic word. The woman put the dish in front of the lord and had him cut it up, then she offered the dish to me, having first pickings. She came to stand beside me this time, I wouldn't have to lean all over the table. 

Golden farts, all would be fine, they all loved the sound and smell of my golden, glittery farts. 

Taking two pieces of chicken on my plate I forced myself to breathe, then nearly lost it as the tent opened up with much fanfare. A man stepped in, looking like a pompous fucking asshole. That must have been the bishop. He didn't wear a cross out in the open, but everything about him shouted how self-righteous he was. 

"Aethelbrith! I thought I smelled a roast, what opportune timing! Ah, and my dear Alden, how are you, boy?" The bishop held out his arms and got disrobed by those around him, all fluttering about to have the bishop show off his godly golden garb in all its splendor. 

"Bishop Aethelwulf, it's an honor to have you, as always. I trust your journey was uneventful?" The lord spoke just as pompously, making the bishop a bit wary. His eyes drifted towards me.

That fucker was going to use me and my lies to make himself look important. He would sell out my secret for a bit of fame and a good story amongst friends. The moment I started to feel at ease again, something else came up that threatened to unmask me. I was vulnerable here, I wasn't aware of the local politics, and I was hopelessly unarmed. Judging by how tight this dress was, I would barely be able to get off a single arrow in this dress. 

"And who might this be? I thought we had some matters to discuss..." The bishop didn't let his eyes drift away from mine as he walked around the table and sat down, intrigued with me and annoyed at the same time. 

"My lord bishop, this is a very special woman. I will tell you all about her over dinner. Please, rest your feet and warm up, we've got a lot of exciting tidings to share." 

My eyes wandered to Alden, who seemed surprised by his father's words. 

"Father, I'm not sure if -"

"A-ah. Not now, Alden, the poor man has ridden here all this way for roast chicken and conversation, let's give him a moment," the lord said as he waved off the entourage. Only the serving women remained behind, casting eager glances at me and the bishop. I was trapped. 

"You do know how to intrigue me," the bishop said. "Pray, what secrets are you hiding for me?" 

"May I present to you... Maria of Ghent. She ran into some unexpected troubles when sailing with her husband." 

"Maria... An unusual name, for a woman not bound to an abbey..." 

I bent my head down in acknowledgment. "The pleasure is all mine, I assure you." 

His eyes widened. "Ghent, you say. That's Frankish territory. Are you by any chance related to the court?"

"There may be some ties, yes. I married into a different family, though. My husband is - was... a merchant." 

"Was?" The bishop veered back in his seat, golden chains rattling. 

I lowered my eyes to my plate. "I prefer not to speak of it." 

"Let us say grace," Alden said, "I'm starving." 

"Ah, excellent idea. Bishop, if you will..." 

The bishop led a short prayer, followed by a muttered amen from me. It felt like betraying my whole life here on Midgard, as if the love I felt for my family and friends was a lie. The conversation started up around me, but I wasn't eager to join in. I forced myself to smile and respond with a remark here and there, but fortunately, they seemed to not think it strange I kept to myself. 

"Maria, are you feeling alright?" Alden asked as the plates were taken back. Mine was hardly eaten from. The food didn't agree with me. It had been a while since I'd been this close to death. One misstep and they'd find out. "You seem a bit pale. 

"It's nothing, thank you. I just need to rest. It's been an arduous day." 

"You hardly touched your wine as well," the bishop noted as he leaned forward. "My dear, have we upset you?" 

"Not at all, I assure you..." 

"Maria?" The lord wouldn't take no for an answer. I saw it in the way he clenched his jaw, the set of his brow. Half lie. 

"I'm not that hungry. Losing my husband... We were on our way back home when we were attacked."

"This early in the season? Whatever for?" The bishop seemed genuinely surprised. 

"He meant to keep us safe," I said as my hand slid towards my stomach. "We just found out, and now... It's early still, but if I return home with rumors of how I was taken by pirates..." 

If Bjorn would lose me here, and he'd hear from Lagertha I was carrying his child... 

The image was enough to make me cover my mouth with a hand, doing my best to keep from shaking. The twins would hate me if I died here. They would hear it, one day. Why I'd died here, and they would hate me for it. I'd been a fool to even want to try. It was selfish. People weren't meant to have it all. This world wasn't built on happiness. 

"Oh, you poor thing," the bishop said, pulling my hand away and into his greasy embrace. The chicken fat stained his chin, as well. "How horrifying it must have been. Is the child still safe?" 

"Yes. I managed to get away from them before they..." 

"Father, we cannot let rumors of how we found her spread. You know as well as I that her reputation would be ruined. She needs to return home, to her family. It is our Christian duty to make sure she gets back home safely."

"Agreed. Maria, you'll travel to York at first light, in company of the bishop. Alden will come with you, to ensure safe passage." York... Further inland, away from those I loved. It would be so much harder to get back to the camp, this was only getting worse. 

Alden escorted me back personally, to a tent adjacent to his. The woman who had helped bathe me had made a bed for me, clearly her own with some nice furs and blankets to make it seem more than it was. She meant to help me undress, but she seemed to understand a whole lot better now why I didn't want anyone to see me naked. Damn servants, they would gossip us all the way to Ragnarök if they had the chance. 

Lying in bed, my mind wandered again. I went over the situation again and again, and there was no way it could have gone differently. One of us had to make it back to camp, and Halfdan was faster than me. He had that lithe build that made him a perfect scout, and he wore boots. He wouldn't have been able to keep the riders busy for long enough to get me back to camp. No one had been behind us, there was no back-up. 

I prayed to the gods to forgive me. For desecrating them, for going this far to keep me from harm. Death before dishonor wasn't meant for me. My heart was too soft.


	30. Leaving Camp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

Finally, someone approached to wake me. I'd barely slept, my head filled with confusing shreds of dreams mixed in with memories. None of it was good. I needed to get back to my own people. Pretending to be Christian was bad for my health.

"M'lady?" The woman's voice was careful, almost solemn.

"What time is it?" I asked as I sat up. I pretended to stretch, then genuinely yawned.

The woman looked dreadful, something lodged in her arms that she clung to for dear life. "M'lord is about to break his fast and wishes your company. M'lady is to travel up to York afterwards with his Excellency."

How could I forget. I'd mulled it over for hours. "Thank you." I waved a hand to dismiss her. Aslaug was always fond of doing that. She'd been a princess, once. It seemed like something spoiled women did.

The woman lingered. "If it please m'lady, I've secured a better fitting dress for you. Shall I leave it with you?"

"Yes." I squeezed the bridge of my nose. How much longer until they invented coffee? "That's so kind of you, thank you. I'll be out in a bit."

As she left I breathed in deep, feeling the ache in my shoulders from where I had lain frozen. The dress was a light blue, one of the most expensive colors to dye any fabric in. It must have been priceless, how had they managed to get their hands on it?

Either way, it seemed better suited for my body type. Some threads stuck out at the shoulders, that poor woman must've been up all night taking it out a size or two. It fit a lot better, only pulling a bit at my chest. Damn breasts, they were growing already. Would the others notice it, if I ever got back to camp?

Helga would. The boys wouldn't notice, they never looked at me like that. Neither did Floki. But Harald and Halfdan... I could only pray the difference was still subtle. All this time I'd been worried about the morning sickness giving it away.

The dress wasn't perfect, but much better than the last one. It would do, I could fight in this. Maybe I'd have a chance of getting away if I cut off the skirt at my knees.

I'd need to break away during the ride over. Once I arrived in York, it would be over. They would find out I wasn't from Ghent, there.

Breakfast was quiet, the mood almost grim. Aethelbrith kept muttering about the carriage he'd dragged over all the way from a nearby town while Alden insisted it would make us more of a target, especially with Vikings nearby. The bishop pretended not to notice anything was wrong, but I was glad for Alden's decision to go against his father. A carriage meant I wouldn't even see the environment, making it even harder to escape.

I needed a weapon, too. Anything, even a knife would do. It might buy me enough time to get my hands on a bow. The one in front of me wasn't even sharp enough to stab with at a stick of butter. It wasn't worth the risk to steal it. I'd have more luck unhanding one of the guards when they didn't expect it.

There was no time to find another one. With breakfast over, Alden walked beside me towards the horses. His mind was occupied wit frustrations towards his father. With some luck, that meant he wasn't as sharp as usual during a fight.

"Forgive me," he said as he summoned a soldier to his side. The sun barely shone, but Alden squinted against the light all the same. Less than perfect eyesight? No real difference between left and right, as far as I could tell. "I took the liberty of arranging a horse that wouldn't attract any unwanted attention. It's said the French know how to ride like the wind. Can you handle a horse with a bit of a temper?"

The soldier brought out a muddy brown mare with white flecks on her legs. No noble would want to ride such a revolting horse.

"I suppose..."

"You are free to take the carriage, of course. If you fear for the life of your child, I - It didn't make sense to me to put both of you in danger of being detected. We didn't find that ship you mentioned, I made sure to have the scouts comb the area." He looked around, towards the coast. "Not all of them have returned yet."

A hampered gasp left my lungs. Halfdan lived. He'd told the others to be wary, the boys were all safe. With me not there, the Seer's words could become truth. I could lose one of them. I had to get back to them as fast as I could. I had to survive.

The mare sensed something going on with the humans around her. She shook out her mane, whinnying as I tried to touch her head. "Thank you, Alden. I don't know how I shall ever repay your kindness. You saved my life, even though I have nothing to give you in return."

"I shall find my reward in Heaven, when His angels summon me. It's my duty to keep you safe. And after all you have endured... You're a strong woman, Maria. Only a fool would not see that the moment they meet you." His eyes slid towards his father, who looked on with an appraising look.

Alden stood too close. His words were too kind. The horse beside me was eager to have something happen, as was I.

"What is her name?" I asked, trying again to get the horse to trust me. Damn bathing oils, no wonder she was skittish.

"Why would you name a horse?" Alden asked.

"Why wouldn't you?" I turned to the horse, seeing she was starting to begrudgingly accept her fate. "She's got a temper, allright. You can see her personality shining through, she's a tough one. Notice how she raises her head a bit sideways?"

"She looks like she's thinking."

"She's considering if I'm worthy of her. She's a princess in her own right."

"I'll be sure to tell the farmer who owns her."

"You stole a horse for me?" I asked, surprised he would even admit it.

A careful smile came to his lips, shining in his eyes. "That's one way of putting it. We'd best leave, the sooner we put some distance between us and here, the better." Alden moved to the side of the horse, at the ready to give me a boost himself. Even if he was but a petty lord's son, I knew it was highly unusual of him to lower himself in such a way.

Still, I accepted his offer. I liked him, a lot. In a different life we might have been friends, that much was clear from the easy way we had of making each other smile.

I was married. I had children, this wasn't the time to think about handsome men and smiles. He wasn't Viking, by any means, but maybe that was what attracted me to him. Was it attraction?

I had only gotten into this mess because I wanted to see if I could patch things up with Bjorn, he was still the love of my life. He was waiting for me, this was no time to question every decision I had made over the past few weeks. Alden was still a Christian, above all else. I hated them, they weren't my friends and never would be.

Even so, I could feel attracted to someone else. That hadn't happened I years. I took a deep breath. I needed a distraction, Alden drove me insane. If it wasn't his smile or his eyes, it was how he reminded me of Bjorn and my mission here. Where was that bloodlust when I needed it? It would tell me exactly how I could kill a man best, there was this mind thing that came with it. Maybe the bloodlust would work to my benefit, today.

As we rode off, I calmed down. The mare I rode responded in kind, loosening her gait as she easily kept up with the other horses. She made me think of a little kid; too eager for adventure to join the adults in their boring conversations. But she was far from small, her shoulder almost reached up to mine. For a farmer's horse that was large. Most Viking looked comical as they sat on the tiny horses of this time, they hadn't thought of selective breeding yet. I hadn't wanted to take the sight away from myself, seeing Bjorn on anything less than a fierce stallion made me think of a giant in bumper cars.

The landscape was so familiar it did nothing to catch my eye. All it did was remind me of my past, where the same pines and birches grew, the birds sounded the same, and the same clouds hid the sun. It was a godsforsaken nightmare to be back in such a place. Even as a kid I'd never understood the appeal of going somewhere this similar to home. The Dutch coast was nothing special.

"Maria?" Alden pulled me from my thoughts. He rode beside me, tailing the bishop and one of the guards. Behind us rode another two. None of them had a bow... Except for Alden. A regular one. Yew, no doubt. Not my favorite, but durable. A bit too stiff for my tastes, but quiet as a whisper.

"Hmm?"

"When you get back home, will you be fine? Without your husband, I mean. If you have a child on the way..."

"You're awfully callous," I said, casting a custory glance in his direction. The bow hung around his shoulder, he had taken after the Viking way of traveling with weapons. The locals carried them on their saddles, or in their hands.

"Forgive me, I only meant... It will be hard for you. If I can help..."

"Can you give me back my husband?" I asked, openly looking in his direction. He was right-handed; his sword hung to his left. The carotid artery in his neck bulged as he gritted his teeth. Could I bite through it? My nails wouldn't get through fast enough. He had a knife though, on his belt. It looked ornamental, but he was the type to keep it sharp.

"I am certain your husband waits for you in Heaven. But until the time you get there as well -"

"Alden, please. I'm going home, to my family. I have brothers who will take care of me, they will find me a suitable new match. After I have had time to mourn my husband. You know how these things go."

"No, I didn't mean - I meant to offer my support, not... I'm engaged to be wed, myself. I merely meant to say that I would be more than happy to take care of any costs that might arise from the loss of your husband's ship, and the journey you are about to undertake."

Oh. Right, I was broke. Destitute, with child, no way to go home. Awkward...

"My... My apologies, I..."

"The fault is mine. I know it is uncouth for me to discuss monetary matters with a woman. I shouldn't have brought it up."

Both of us sufficiently ashamed, we looked away. Uncouth... Just imagine, a woman having a say about her money. As much as I hated the thought, Bjorn might've been right about women having more freedom in Kattegat than elsewhere. It was ways off from where I wanted it all to be, but considering this was enough to make Alden uncomfortable...

It had nothing to do with me rejecting his non-existent marriage proposal, at all. Sharing a smile and getting along wasn't enough to get a proposal my way, I was...

I was distracting myself. I didn't want to kill Alden. But his was the only bow, and that was the only weapon I could wield well enough to give myself a chance of surviving. Perhaps I could let him live... But the Seer's words echoed through my skull. My choices would have consequences. Knowing the gods and how cruel they could be, he could be the one to discover the camp as he chased me on my way back. Or he would hurt one of the boys in battle, the risk was too great.

Alden had to die.

"E - excuse me, Alden?" I kept my eyes at his feet, still embarrassed. "I should've done this back at the camp, but... I have to... You know..."

He let out a sigh of relief. "Yes, of course. I'll... Sir bishop! Slow down for a moment! Our companion needs to take a short break."

We all slowed down, and soon came to a standstill. I slid off my horse, casting a glance at Alden. We were still close to the camp, and I couldn't very well disarm him with four other men around to intervene. Alden understood my qualms about being alone in the woods. Without a word he came along to keep me safe from raping Viking.

"Thank you," I murmured when we disappeared behind the trees. "It's all so fresh, still... If you'd just... I mean, just a bit further, but then..."

"I'll face the road. You have nothing to fear." He drew his sword to make me feel extra safe. Damnit. I'd have to sneak up to him, unsheathe his knife and cut his throat. He couldn't scream when I killed him. Windpipe first, then carotid.

When I figured we were in far enough to be out of sight from any snooping soldiers I stopped walking, casting furtive glances at Alden. He turned around as he noticed, keeping his head held high.

Fuck. I was going to do this. For my children, for my little sprout.

For the gods. How better to repay them for my insolence than to grant them the blood of our enemies? It would drench his shirt, maybe even stain my hands. The warmth of it, the way it would stick in the bedding of my finger nails...

I licked my lips as I made a show of pulling up my skirt, making sure the fabric made sound as I lifted it up. I wouldn't take a break until I got back to camp or reached Folkfangr. As I bent down, let it go, I studied Alden's stance. He put up a show for me, he wasn't ready for someone to actually attack him. Not from behind. Especially not a woman with child.

Would it shame him, if he knew? Did he even grasp the concept of death before dishonor?

As the trickling between my legs died down I realized it would be a while until I would be able to wipe off properly again. Leaves had to suffice. 

Alden looked back at the sound of them rustling. I let out a tiny shriek, making him jump back to position. He stood frozen, ears red. Damnit. Why couldn't he ever do what I needed him to do? He made it difficult to kill him.

Maybe I should change tactics and try to seduce him. He'd have to remove his bow and quiver then, that would be an advantage. But he would overpower me in close combat, shit. Slitting his troat, that was the way to go.

"You scared me," I said as I slowly rose to my feet again.

"I thought I heard something. I was concerned for your safety."

I'd gotten my dress down to my knees as he'd spoken, and even the skin on his neck turned red. "We seem to have quite a number of misunderstandings today." Two feet between us. He'd never notice me when he was this distracted.

"So it seems." One foot.

I could reach out to his knife, but I needed to be closer to slit his throat in the same fell swoop. I had to mind a wider reach as the windpipe needed to be cut, not just the carotid.

"I'm almost done," I said, my voice softer. If he heard I was closer by he'd freak out and make too much noise.

His carotid pulsed. The skin on his cheek was scarlet; he blushed at the thought of me lifting up my skirts. What an innocent little lamb. If only he knew what I had in store for him. My hand touched the hilt of his blade, it felt cold to the touch. Iron. Good.

He smelled like impending death. The knife slid loose easily, it was often used. That meant it was sharp. It rose to his waist, then his back, his shoulder blades. If he noticed a thing he would turn to the right. Most right-handed people did.

"We should be getting ba -"

A gurgling was all that followed. His blood poured out of the wound as he struggled to turn around, eyes wide as he looked in my eyes, then looked down. The blood spilling over my hand was hypnotizing, the warmth of it feeling like a caress of sunlight.

"Tell your god he'll be busy," I whispered as I guided him down on the ground, not wanting him to cause a muffled drop or break too many twigs on his way down. As he was on his knees I removed the bow and quiver from his back. Life dripped away from him, only a choking sound coming from his throat. The blood formed bubbles, a tiny sliver of joy in between death and revenge.

"Hnng," he produced.

"Ragnhild," I corrected. "The gods will help us ravage your lands. There will be nothing left of your camp, soon. I'll make sure of that. Christan filth." I spat on his face.

The blood that stuck to my hand would look magnificent on my face, but I held back. I still had three more soldiers to kill, and then the bishop remained.


	31. Death Before Dishonor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

Alden took his sweet time dying. The way his mouth kept flapping open and shut, he reminded me of a fish. His lungs spasmed, begging for air, but it wouldn't help him. Even in my time he would be doomed.

He hadn't been completely useless. His shirt now sported a bloody handprint, smeared around to get the worst of it off my hands. Some still stuck to my hand, though. It wouldn't come off until I scrubbed it raw. Not that I wanted to.

"Are your friends as persistent as you are? Or will they send off the bishop when I call out? Are they trained to investigate first?” He didn't respond. “You're an awfully lazy people when it comes to safety, especially after killing Ragnar. Did you know he was my father-in-law? At least you were right about me being a princess. Too bad his wife took over before Ragnar died. Then I would've been a queen, like I was trained to be. Not that I mind, I have enough to worry about. But still, to be queen for a day. Who doesn't want that? You're not very talkative, are you?"

I brushed a finger past his nose, then rose up with a deep sigh. Alden blinked once, twice, then his eyes fluttered, his body spasming again. At least now he was dead. I hoped it pleased the gods. I stared at my hand again, thinking, ruminating, then smirking at how poorly men dealt with it whenever it came to blood from a woman's body. You'd think they were used to seeing it. The soldiers, the men who lived with their wives in a one-room house. They all abhorred blood, like it was some kind of seidr cast by the gods.

It was almost a weakness in them. One that I could exploit.

I so would.

"Alden?" I started out with a normal voice, it had to be convincing. "Alden, what... Alden. Alden!" That would have grabbed their attention. "My baby, no! There's blood! No! No!"

Oh, sweet, blessed, merciful Freyja. Bow poised, half hidden behind a tree, I shot the approaching soldier in the chest. It worked like a charm. I rushed over to slit his throat, just to be safe, then listened for signs of the others suspecting foul play. The arrows had flown off much softer than usual. I'd forgotten how soft the thrum of a yew bow was. I'd forgotten a lot of things.

The bishop called out; he sounded alarmed. He was still there, thank the gods.

I smeared my arm with the second man's blood, then added a splash to the front of my dress. How freeing it was, to use my femininity against them for once. Siggy would love this story. Most of her female heroes ended up dying in the end, aside from Lagertha. Maybe I'd become one of her war heroes, too. We could go raiding together, that would be fun. She'd make me so proud, I just knew it.

Stepping out from the line of trees, arrow already nocked, my nerves came back up. Fuck. The bloodlust had gone away. Stupid happy thoughts, they had no place here. I could still die.

I held the bow out of sight, ready to take aim if things went south.

"Maria," the bishop said, looking shocked as he saw the blood on my hand.

"The baby..." It would die for real, if this failed. I had to shove the anxiety away, there was no failure possible here.

One step at a time.

I had to lure one of the guards over. I'd kill him when his shield was down. Then I'd reach out to my quiver for a new arrow. After that, I'd kill the remaining guard as he rode off with the bishop to protect him. Then the bishop. Twenty seconds, it didn't have to take much longer than that. Almost there.

The soldier nearest to me approached, holding out his hand as if I were a wounded animal.

"Are you hurt?" He asked, eyes worried.

"Two moons..." I noticed the mistake at the same time as the soldier did.

Saxons counted the months. I counted the moons.

In a fluid motion I let my right hand slide behind the tree, then drew back the string as I took aim. His shield rose up to his face, but it caught behind the handle of his sword. The arrow flew off, as if in slow motion. I didn't even register letting go of the string.

The bishop stared at me, horrified, until our eyes met. He put his spurs to his horse. The remaining guard followed after. I bent down for my quiver. His horse sprinted off. The arrow had pierced the Saxon's eye. I'd expected there to be more blood. 

No time to waste. Next step.

They were already off, I'd never get them both without going after them. I slung the quiver over my neck, then the bow.

I was clumsy getting my stuff with me, and I was clumsy getting up my horse without the help of a nearby tree. The dress got in the way, too. I had to pull it up to my hips to get my legs over the mare's side. By the time I got up to speed the bishop and the last guard were as good as out of range from my bow.

"Come on girl! They'll kill you just as easy as me! Hya!"

The mare was not used to gallopping as hard as the others. She was stockier, shorter, and not as fast. Why hadn't I picked Alden's horse?

The bishop advanced towards the camp; I might have to let him go. I was safe; that's what mattered. They would find us eventually, after that failed scouting we wouldn't be the only one running into enemy forces. I was perfectly fine cutting my losses like this. Three down was still an enormous feat. I'd gotten out two days earlier than I expected.

Up ahead, two riders appeared. The bishop headed straight for them.

Fuck.

Just my luck. How else could it be? If the bishop reached them, they would chase after me. I'd not be able to get away.

I got my bow out and as I held it out, I missed my own bow. Recurves had much more power while requiring less strength, while this stupid thing was long, lumbering, and... Had been the type I had practiced with in the beginning. Ubbe's bow had seen quite the use before I'd gotten my own when he'd gone off to raid Scotland.

I had no time to test the balance properly, but Alden had this one decorated, and still it had seen a lot of use. It was in good shape, good quality. I'd rather die quickly than have them chase me like an animal, only to die slowly once they caught me.

Death before dishonor. Finally.

The bow's length forced me to stand up in the stirrups to wield it at all. In half a minute the riders would meet the bishop.

One step at a time.

I nocked another arrow, took in a deep breath. Anywhere on the back would buy me time.

I breathed out. The arrow flew, struck the guard in the neck. Damnit, I'd aimed for the ribs. At least he was dead, now. "Come on girl, faster!" Her gait was uneven as she ran. I'd been lucky to hit him, at all.

I didn't have time for mistakes. I couldn't wait to figure out the mare's handicap. The riders were approaching fast. The bishop would get away. I would die. I breathed in.

The beat of her hooves echoed in my head. My heartbeat joined in. As they amtched up, the arrow flew.

I passed by the last guard. The arrow struck the bishop's horse in the rear.

The bishop fell off, rolled a few times, then remained motionless on the ground. Good enough.

One step at a time. Next arrow. New target. I'd check for signs of life, after. The two strangers still rode towards me, the glint of iron rising up. Swords. 

They lowered again? I wouldn't let myself get tricked. Arrow notched, I breathed in. The men slow down. The left one waved his arms around. The one on the right smacked him, then a sharp short whistle reached me.

I'd heard that whistle countless times before the past week. It was Halfdan. But how?

Lowering my bow, sitting down as I put the arrow back in my quiver, I didn't know what to make of this. Drawing near, seeing the other one was Hvitserk, I was completely lost for words. I patted the mare on her neck as I got off, almost falling as I got caught in the blasted skirt. "Fuck!"

"Oh, very gracious, Ragnhild. I told you dresses were a bad idea."

I shot Halfdan a sour look and marched up to him, unsheathing his knife as I kept staring at him, then turned around to start hacking into the fabric. "That dress saved my life, I'll have you know."

Halfdan scowled. He turned to the injured horse, sighing as if I'd asked him to mind my children.

"Are you hurt?" Hvitserk asked, pulling at my arm all of a sudden. He should know better than to toucht my arm when I was wielding a knife. I'd taught him that when he was three.

"Careful," I muttered, annoyed at the question. "It's Saxon blood. Calm your tits, I'm fine."

"Then where did you get the blood?" Hvitserk asked. Hadn't he just seen me kill two men?

I rolled my eyes and tore through the rest of the fabric, cutting it off right above my knees. My legs were not used to sunlight anymore, and it felt amazing to feel a breeze past my leg hair. "Oh, that's so much better. What are you doing here, anyway?"

Halfdan's voice rang out from behind. The horse was nowhere in sight. "Ironside wouldn't shut up about me losing you," Halfdan said as he jerked back his knife, snarling as he took in my bare legs. He could suck a dick with his prudish attitude. The skirt still reached my knees.

Hvitserk smiled brightly. "I thought I'd help. We had some great adventures down in the Mediterranean, after all." He tried to put his weight on Halfdan's shoulder, who took a step forward.

Halfdan pointed his knife at the blood still on the front of my dress. "Is that what I think it is? Because if so, you are disgusting." He sounded more bored than anything else.

"That is also Saxon blood. If this were mine, it would mostly be on the back of the dress."

He hummed, then turned his attention to the bishop. He walked over to the body, then kicked at it. It slowly rolled over, as if it had to be convinced it was actually being kicked at. The head lay at a strange angle. No visible blood, that was a broken neck.

"Broken neck," Halfdan said as he looked up to see the other corpse down the road. "Any more bodies we need to know about?"

"Only that one and a few in the woods about a minute off by horse. Five in total. Plenty of English iron to scrape off the bodies, if that makes you happy."

He dragged the bishop's body after the horse, headed to where the horse had been led to. Hvitserk didn't seem to notice how Halfdan was doing all the heavy work. Halfdan rode off by himself, no doubt still muttering by the time we reached the bodies. I kept my eyes on Halfdan as we followed suit, Hvitserk talking my ears off while I'd rather be alone.

Bjorn had given a command, and Harald had accepted his brother being sent off on a suicide mission. What had made him come up here, anyway? So many questions, and so little time to worry about the answers.

"Next time refrain from denting the helmets," Halfdan said as we caught up. He already dragged the scavenged body off in between the trees.

"That one was only six feet away, don't blame me for having to spend a few coppers to fix that helmet. They were honor guards, plenty of good iron on all of them.”

Halfdan grumbled again, then stalked off with the body, two ankles in his hands.

"What's gotten into him?" I whispered.

Hvitserk looked confused. His eyes went from me to the corpse and back, then he shook his head. "I don't know. Usually he's all kinds of cheerful on raids. Maybe he's upset you killed them all?" Hvitserk looked thoughtful, making me wonder if he'd been serious.

I thought I'd raised him better than that. "Could be..." More likely his demons were acting up. I knew to leave him alone when they did. "Come on, let's get those horses secured. Halfdan's got the dead guys taken care of."

"Don't we want to burn them?" Hvitserk asked. "It's what we did back in Algeceras."

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at him. "And to what aim would you burn them?" I asked, making it perfectly clear that was the stupidest idea ever.

"Just asking," he muttered as he turned to the horses.

With the adrenaline disappearing from my veins, all I really wanted was to change and go to sleep underneath my own furs. It was worth the extra trouble of dragging it along when we went en route. I needed some homely comfort.

We set off back to the camp. With four additional horses it was a cumbersome trip, but we arrived before noon. We were closer to the camp than I thought; Halfdan knew all kinds of shortcuts through the landscape. The other scouts must've had more luck than us two. We ended up on the other side of the camp, where more horses stood secured. Also stolen from farmers, no doubt. If the local lords did it, I had nothing against our forces doing the same.

I got off my horse and patted her on her neck again. She whinnied softly, pushing her head against my shoulder.

"Phoebe," I decided. "Hi there. I'm Ragnhild."

"Huh?" Halfdan looked up.

"The horse. Her name is Phoebe."

"She does that," Hvitserk said as he tried to pull me off, but I wasn't satisfied yet. The people in charge of the horses needed to know as well, and I made them promise to give her a nice rub-down for the hard work she'd done.

The sun reached high in the sky as we approached the biggest tent in the camp. Bjorn's, no doubt. It was still the same one Ragnar had often used It was spaceous enough, and the worst of the furs had been changed this past winter. Not that Bjorn had noticed I'd taken care of that.

Inside, Bjorn was talking to Floki in hushed tones, both facing away. It looked intense. Halfdan walked in without a word and sat down at the table, not bothering to look up as he put his boots on the table. He drew his knife and started to clean his nails. Hvitserk and I stood at the entrance, not sure what to do. Bjorn leaned over the table.

"Well?" He asked. "Where is she?"

Halfdan scoffed, then winked his head towards my direction. Bjorn turned around, slowly, his face still irate. I didn't blame Hvitserk for stepping sideways. Bjorn had every right to be angry at me.

His eyes slowly took me in. He lingered on my hair, on the dress, on my knees, then stared into my eyes. "What, in the name of Odin, happened to your hair?"

He could go fuck himself. I'd been gone for a full day, captured by the enemy, and that was what he wanted to talk about?

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did you not know I had to cut it off to keep our position hidden?" The way Bjorn's jaw clenched, he hadn't believed it. Not until he'd seen it. "I went a bit farther than I thought, when I was out scouting. You might have missed me at dinner last night."

Halfdan snorted, then straightened his face without looking up. Bjorn shot him a dirty look. I could do without his bravoure after what I'd been through.

"We did notice," Floki said. His hand found the back of my neck, only our foreheads touching shortly. He looked me over once, then hummed.

"Hvitserk. Go tell your brothers she's safe. Ragnhild, you will tell me exactly what went wrong yesterday. How dare you go against my orders?"

"I could do without a fight today," I sighed, flinging the bow and quiver on the table. "I barely slept, is -"

"Tell me!"

I seethed at his shouting, teeth almost bared. "We ran into some soldiers. I pretended to be an escaped prisoner. I know how to survive in a strange country."

He did not appreciate the shade. And frankly, I didn't give a damn.

"What did you tell them!"

"Bjorn. Lower. Your. Voice. I sent them off on a wild goose chase. They noticed some scouts not making it back. That camp of theirs is turning into a permanent settlement, we just got unlucky with where we landed. We're at the edge of Aelle's territory, about half a day's ride southwest of York."

"And how would you know that?" Bjorn stepped closer.

I had to look up at him. "Not once have you ever doubted me like this. Not about these things. If you don't trust me to want to keep you safe, trust that I love your brothers like that." How dared he, welcoming me back like this. I'd been terrified I would die, I'd almost broken my promise to Freydis, and all he could do was yell at me.

"No wonder you two want to get a divorce," Halfdan said. "I saw the corpses. She killed all five herself, and from what I saw, she started off unarmed. She can hold her own."

I looked his way, then stared to the other side. The entrance to the tent wouldn't judge me for the tears that started welling up. I felt vindicated. This must've been how Siggy felt when he'd asked her about her fighting. Halfdan trusted that what he saw was the truth. How had I never realized before?

"She shot a horse down from fifty feet, while giving chase. Got another one in the back of the neck, same story. She's a better archer than most." He looked at me, then smirked. "Compensates for her crappy scouting skills, I suppose. You keep her back at camp, next time you want eyes anywhere." He got up and left.

I flashed my eyes up at Bjorn's. He seethed with rage. I had to look away to keep from smiling.

"Is it true? What he said?" 

"Every word," I boasted. "Halfdan's too dumb to lie about stuff like this."

"And just how do you explain -"

"Auntie!" Sigurd stormed in, followed by Ubbe and Hvitserk. "We thought you were dead! Thank the gods, you're safe."

I didn't want to deny him a hug. He must've been terrified of losing me, after the prophecy... I'd be worried sick, too. "I'm okay."

Bjorn had his arms crossed. "Boys. Get out. We were in the middle of something."

"Are you kidding? We need to celebrate! She must've told you about that shot she made. And that bishop, he called out to some woman called Maria. He was terrified, it was amazing." Hvitserk tried to pull me along, but I stepped back.

"I'm happy to see you too, but I need to explain some things to -"

"Out! Everybody out, now!" Spittle flew as Bjorn chased everyone off. Even the guards he had posted near the entrance left, lowering the skins to the entrance before they went.

I nodded at the boys as they took their leave. They pitied me already. Just how bad had Bjorn's temper been since we last saw each other? Whatever it was, Bjorn overreacted. He had no right to be this upset with me. He'd better have one hel of an apology.


	32. Giving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

I refused to bend. "You can't be mad at me for turning a failed scouting into an enemy infiltration. I killed five of them, one a bishop."

"That has nothing to do with it! I gave you an order, and you disobeyed! In the worst way possible!"

"I'm better than you thought I would be! How is that a crime!"

He towered over me, spittle flying from his mouth as he shouted. "You endangered the entire campaign!"

"I kept them from finding out about us! If we raze that camp tonight no one will be the wiser!"

Bjorn put his hand on my throat. I spat at his face.

"You promised me that you would lay low," he grunted softly. The corner of his lip rose, baring his teeth. He wiped off his cheek with the back of his other hand.

The pressure on my throat was just enough to feel uncomfortable. "You promised me a lot of things, too, when we got married." Both times.

His fingers itched to grab hold of me even tighter, but he withdrew his hand. He took a deep breath, no doubt remembering the range last March. At least he was learning. "You didn't give me what I wanted for years," he sneered.

I wasn't sure if he meant the divorce or the other thing, but both were inexcusable to bring up at a time like this. I smacked him in the face. The smack rang out through the tent, hurting my palm. I'd never show him I was hurting ever again. I clenched my hands to fists.

"Auntie!" Hvitserk came rushing in. 

I flung a nearby cup at him, spilling red wine over the furs on the floor. "And stay out!"

"Fucking prick," Bjorn spat in his direction.

"You said we wouldn't fight here," I hissed before he could turn back to me to keep on shouting. "You put valuable men in danger to get me out, while I specifically said not to bother."

"You missed that shot. You'd never hit an animal on purpose. You're not ready for battle."

"He died," I stressed. "I had an unfamiliar bow, different arrows, and a new horse. This was nothing like on the ship."

"That priest knew your name. He meant to warn the camp, didn't he? You pretended to be a Christian."

I smacked him again, but this time he caught my wrist. This time, he did squeeze.

"How come you can smack me like this, but when I do it, it's assault?"

"Death before dishonor." I stared at him, intensely, waiting for him to respond. In that moment I didn't care if he would retaliate or not. When he acted like this I couldn't even try and reason with him. I didn't even want to be near him.

"What did you say?"

"You've insulted me for years. You slept with everyone that was even remotely interested. Do you think that was honoring me? I'm here to avenge Ragnar, and all you think about is keeping me back. The gods want me here, and I'm playing by their rules, now. You know what that means. Death before dishonor." The words came from deep inside, where only the bloodlust dared to roam.

He ground his teeth trying to hold back. "For years I tried to make you understand, and now..."

I couldn't believe it. Did he imply this was how it had been like for him when I begged him to stay home that year? "I changed." I tried to keep my cool, but he'd rattled me. I wasn't even sure if I was angry or sad. Was Kol haunting his dreams, too?

His voice softened. "You're still the same." He brushed a hand past my face, his fingers sliding through the short strands of hair. "But I never thought you'd cut it that easily. You love your hair."

"I love the idea of surviving more."

Our eyes met, and for a moment I thought I was dreaming. There was something in his I hadn't seen for years. It made me lean into his touch. It was easy as putting on an old glove. I didn't mean for it to happen.

He didn't care. He surged forward, put his other hand to the back of my head and kissed me.

I was stupefied. Bjorn froze.

My hands touched his chest. My fingers lingered. I felt his breath on my face. He'd stopped. He cared.

I grasped his shirt and pulled him close, pushing my lips against his. He kissed me back. It made my heart leap. He still cared, he still wanted me. He'd been worried over me disappearing. Bjorn still loved me.

He still loved to kiss me with such a force it made my neck ache. He still loved to let his hands slide all over my body. He still loved to pick me up in his arms, kissing me as he put me on top of the table.

His hands lingered near my hips. They dug into my flesh, almost dragged me up to his own hips. For a moment he pulled back from the kiss, staring down into my eyes.

He loved me. I knew it, deep down I'd always known it. He still loved me.

Bjorn pulled up my dress, so roughly the fabric tore. I yanked at his belt, then his pants, but he stopped me before I got to his shirt. Taking hold of my wrists, he kissed me again. Memories of before flooded my mind. I wanted to do it all again, with him. I got closer to him, scuttling over the table.

Pulling me close, grasping my hips, he let me guide him in. It all went so naturally. We were so good at fucking each other.

I gasped as he filled me, nerves aflutters as he took a second to feel me all around him. His dick was amazing. He was amazing. My nails dug into his shirt as he started to pound into me as if his life depended on it. His tempo was brutal, the grasp on my hips so tight I couldn't do a thing without making him lose his grueling pace.

"Fuck," I moaned, followed by a hand on my mouth. My eyes crossed over, my nails dragging over his back.

"Shut up," Bjorn breathed, then gasped himself as my nails dug down deep. "Don't you dare..."

He thrust three more times and had me shaking in his arms. It had been so long since I'd felt a dick inside of me. Bjorn still had his stamina, though. He kept on going, groaning as he felt me clench tight.

A second orgasm built up, having me stretch out a leg as I pulled Bjorn close, face buried in his shirt. He hadn't washed since we left Kattegat, it had been a week now. That was how much he cared. He hadn't rested until I had returned.

He came right before I did. His semen fill me up, I held him close as I shuddered.

Bjorn pulled out and put his pants back on. He turned away from me.

I slid off the table, unsure where this left us. I tugged at the hem of my dress. Of course one fuck wouldn't solve everything, but this... I expected some comments back and forth.

"Bjorn?"

He didn't look at me. "If you see Floki, send him back in. And get your hair fixed. It's a mess."

For the whole of four seconds I felt his words stab into my heart. I felt the hurt he caused me, before I pushed it down and hardened my face. The only thing seeping through was rage. And it was cold as ice.

"I'm not a slave anymore. Go fetch him yourself." I grabbed the English bow and quiver, looking very much forward to washing that hideous mistake off.

"Fuck up again, and I will have you guard the boats!" Bjorn shouted after me.

I didn't even dignify it with a response. As soon as the light hit my face I didn't know where to go. Hvitserk had gone, and I didn't know where my own tent was. And in my anger, I didn't care. Bjorn had lied to me with every scrap of his being. He cared, he'd started it, and then this? He could suck a dick. A whole bag of them.

The camp bustled with people still building defenses. That extra time I'd bought them, we'd needed all of it. All the tents were already pitched, and I was loathe to have mine set up somewhere off from the rest. I wanted to be able to keep an eye on them. Bjorn especially. Right now, he wasn't stable enough to lead us to victory. Not if he fucked up like this again.

I heard Hvitserk's laugh before I saw him. I made my way over to where the boys were huddled together, only Ivar wasn't there. They listened intently to Halfdan. He told the tale he'd shared with Bjorn, too. He was the only one who noticed I was coming near, but he didn't stop regaling the boys with my feat, worthy of the sagas to hear him talk of it.

"... and he called out to us, as if we would come to his rescue... Maria! His god was nowhere in sight. Hvitserk and I drew our swords, eager to take him down, not worried about that far-off rider at all. It was but the one, dressed in blue. We figured the bishop had left his charge behind as he came at us, undoubtedly heading back to camp.

"We rode up to meet him, eager to slake our swords with blood, but then the fat bastard's horse tripped. It went down to the ground, slinging the bishop off its back. He cried out in shock, then broke his neck as he rolled off. I cursed the gods for taking the kill away from me, but then that other rider came up. She wielded an English bow, she stood up in her stirrups, and was aiming her next arrow at poor Hvitserk over here." He smacked Hvitserk on his shoulder.

"Actually, I was aiming at you," I said. The boys glanced up as they heard my voice and got up, taking me in their arms again. I breathed out as I felt Sigurd's chest to my face. Ubbe squeezed my shoulder, nodding as I looked up at him. "And for future reference, Maria is the mother of their vessel. They believe in only one, and he's the son of their god. It's incredibly strange. Maria gave birth to that vessel without ever having had sex."

"It's good to have you back again," Sigurd said, ignoring my tendency to teach the boys to deal with my lingering nerves. "Halfdan made it sound like some daring chase."

"Well, he was late trying to rescue me. I thought it would take three days, but their commander thought it would be best to bring me to York. I'll tell you all about it, but I really want to get changed first."

"Is that dress getting shorter every time I see you?" Hvitserk asked, his eyes narrowed.

I pulled it down again. It had crawled up to halfway my thighs, revealing my tattoo there. "I'm tired. Do you guys know what happened to my tent?"

"I'll walk you over," Halfdan said as he got up. "I have to take a piss anyway."

With a faint smile I looked on as he chugged his horn, then walked beside him.

"Something's up with auntie," Hvitserk whispered just a bit too loud. He had no idea.

"I was impressed with that shot you took," Halfdan said as he kept his eyes forward. "I've never even heard of shooting an arrow from horseback, let alone in full gallop."

"I told you, I know how to fight. I wasn't making up some story to impress people."

"Did the gods teach you?"

"The gods made me pick up a bow, but they had nothing to do with the time and effort I put into it." I didn't want them to get credit for what had cost me. It had taken so much time and effort, even when I didn't want to I'd pushed on and held on to my schedule, barring any interruptions from the children or the boys.

"I want to learn how to do that, too."

I slowly turned to face him, seeing Halfdan was all kinds of serious. "You expect me to teach you something that you'll use against me and my family someday?" I asked. 

Halfdan frowned for a second. I didn't know what to make of this.

"I didn't mean..." Halfdan slowed down, until I pulled at his arm.

"Oh, I know what you mean. Something's crawled up your butt, and it's not a demon this time, is it? You wonder if something changed between us. And the fucked up thing is that it did. We're no longer friends, not like we used to be, when we had to pretend for the sake of diplomacy. But as much as I feel like I can trust you now, enough to be a real friend, you will always be more loyal to Harald than you will be to me. I know how this world works. So I ask again, do you truly wish to ask me to teach you, knowing I will be inclined to say yes, knowing you will betray me when you use that skill against me in battle?"

"You never forget about that, do you?" Halfdan jutted his chin forward, making his beard move along. He tapped his front teeth together twice, then relaxed. "If I don't give it my all when that time comes, I will betray Harald."

"Then I will forget you asked. This once. Since we're friends, now." Had it only concerned Bjorn, I'd have taught Halfdan day and night until he'd mastered it. 

He'd crawled up on me somewhere the past week. When Harald had done something stupid, he'd come to me for help. We shared a love for strategy, though he was more hand-on than theory-oriented. When we had first met we'd been too different, and I knew it wasn't him that had changed over the years. It was me. I'd become more like him.

It was easy to blame the blood-lust, but I wanted to hold onto the idea that it had gotten easier to hold it down. In truth, I had started to accept it more and more. Now my hand was still drenched in the blood of my enemies, dried up and no longer warm, it made me thirst for more. I wanted to kill, see blood flow once more. Now I'd gotten a fix, I was anxious for more. It was worse than any kind of addiction.

What would happen when I gave in, completely?

"Ragnhild?" Halfdan tore me from my thoughts. "Demon?"

"The worst kind." I lowered my hand, flexing my fingers before balling it into a fist. "I want to wash up."

Halfdan brought me to my tent, which wasn't that far off from Bjorn's. Helga sat in front of the tent next to mine. She got up and hugged me, all kinds of happy I was back, but I couldn't fake a smile. Things had changed.


	33. Even Flow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

The men at the edge of camp cast me curious glances as I walked past, towel and clean dress clutched in my arms. I kept pulling at the blue dress, it slid up as I went. Still, I didn't regret my choice. Changing before I'd dip into the stream would soil one of the few clean dresses I had. I didn't want to fill my mind with thoughts of laundry today.

Once I found the water I walked upstream. Before long the entire camp would find this place and use it for washing, pissing, cleaning their dishes, whatever they needed water for.

At least Helga had cut my hair for me before she succumbing to Tanaruz's whimpers. The girl coming here was a mistake. She had no place here. Floki's sad eyes as he saw them huddled together said he didn't like it any more than I did.

I grasped at the short strands. It barely reached my shoulders. I would get used to it soon enough, but this cut made me feel like I should demand to see the manager. Any length up from my waist felt too short.

It had bought Halfdan time to get back to camp. He'd survived, and my hair had helped sell the story.

I landed at a beautiful spot where the stream turned off to the right. A hard edge sloped down, unburdened by reed. The water swirled but didn't rush. It seemed made to bathe, with a nearby tree sporting a low hanging branch where I could hang up my clean dress and towel.

It was perfect. The water was cold but clear. I scrubbed the blood off my arms and hands, then cleaned off the mistake that was Bjorn. He'd gotten me into this mess, in the first place. Asshole. He didn't deserve the power to make me feel this miserable.

I put my feet on the edge of the stream and let my body float in the water. It calmed me in a way not much else could. For just a moment I returned to a world where I was surrounded by plumbing and electricity, where a warm bed waited for me without any lumps or bugs eager to make a nest, where sheets were a given and not a luxury. What I wouldn't give to lie underneath sheets again and have them be enough.

But like always, after going over the things I missed, came the feeling I was happy that I was here. That I'd ever even met Bjorn, that he gave me the children. My hands drifted towards my stomach.

If we'd never met, he wouldn't have been able to hurt me like this. I'd be completely free of this cursed pain, happy with another man. I let the thought settle in my chest. The water pulled at my hair as it ran its course through the stream, begging me to make a choice, but it was impossible. I loved my children, I would die for them. If this pain was the price I had to pay to have them in my life, then so be it.

Not that they were a trade-off. They simply were, and I was here trying to chase some impossible dream. I risked everything for a small, dumb chance at love, at happily ever after. I was a fool. Bjorn and I would never work like before, we'd grown apart.

Giving in to lust had been even more foolish. Letting Bjorn pull me in without any kind of conversation, that wouldn't help either of us. The way he'd behaved, ignoring me right after, acting as nothing had happened, did I even want him to come back? Some things were still the same, but others... Most had changed. Both of us had changed, and we hadn't changed together.

The clouds above drifted by without a care in the world. White ones, grey ones, barely visible shrouds. Bjorn had torn out my heart, then carved it to pieces. Why did I still love him? Had the gods not sent me their signs so I would come with? Hadn't the Seer told me I'd succeed?

My legs got knocked off the ledge. The water splashed in my eyes. I waved my arms around, caught ground under a foot and rose up. Halfdan loomed over me. He looked me straight in the eye, his eyes locked on mine.

I'd never cower before the likes of him. I stood straight, arms at my side. “What the hel was that for?”

"You're late. Bjorn called a meeting."

"He failed to mention it when he yelled at me."

Halfdan held out his hand. His frown grew, but his eyes stayed focused on mine. "We want to take down that camp tonight. You've been on the inside."

I took his hand. Before I realized it I stood in front of him, my other hand on his chest to keep my breasts from touching his shirt. His breathing sounded forcefully calm.

I loved it. My fingertips felt the beating of his heart, fast as a war drum. I took my sweet time walking to my towel. His eyes seared my skin. This was a desire to fuck me, even though he pretended it wasn't like that.

"Why did he send you?" I asked as I reached the towel. I turned around to face him as I dried off my hair, his frown deepening. After how Bjorn had behaved, I needed to feel wanted. I wanted his body to react.

My hair ended sooner than I expected. I frowned, then dried off the rest of my body. I played with fire, in between enemies who meant to kill me and my family. All for a bit of attention. All for love.

Deplorable. What the fuck was I doing? This wasn't me, never had been. Bjorn was wrong, I had changed. I barely recognized myself, using others to feel better for a second. Still half wet I hung the towel back over the branch and hid behind it, slipping on the dress before I revealed my face again.

"I was the only one who knew where you were off to."

I forced myself to look him in the eye. "Huh," I said, blaming my tiredness for making such a careless mistake. Helga had known where I was, but Floki was hardly one to be sent off to go and fetch me. No doubt Harald would have chalked this up to a point in his favor, he and Bjorn were constantly trading petty blows.

Out of habit, I tried to flip my hair out from underneath my dress. My hand lingered in my neck. I slowly pulled it back again, closing my eyes for a second.

Bjorn was still my weakness. Gods, I just wanted to get this over with. A broken heart was better than this constant state of bickering and hurt. I'd never meant for it all to get this far. Slow as I could, I folded the towel.

Halfdan put his hand on my shoulder. "Shall we?"

I took a sharp breath, then nodded. I picked up the dirty blue dress, hoping I might be able to salvage some of the fabric for Freydis. She'd love the color. As much as Alden had meant to protect me, having me dressed in that thing had made me more of a target than the carriage would have had.

Halfdan joined me in silence. The front of his shirt was still wet from my hand print. I cursed myself for how foolish I had acted.

I made a point of passing by my tent to put away my stuff. "Halfdan. Where did you leave my bow?"

His eyes smiled as his lips spread. He'd want something in return. Whatever it was, I'd given him more than enough already.

"I kept it safe. I'll trade you for that quiver of English arrows."

"Deal," I said as I reached inside, grabbing the quiver before I got back up again. "I can't use them, anyway. Arrows are too long, and their fletching sucks."

"You really are new to raiding," Halfdan said with a satisfied smirk.

I nodded towards the headquarters and we started walking. "I don't need those arrowheads they make here. I can pierce their armor just fine with ours."

His smirk faded. "You know about their iron?"

"How it's better than ours? As soon as I shot off the first arrow with that English bow. Lumbering thing. My arrows are at least four inches shorter, and it's too much hassle to change the heads to my own."

We continued on to Bjorn's tent, stood in a corner of the camp. Curious, how Bjorn had thought that a wise move. Even stranger how everyone seemed to agree with this course of action. He must've ruled with an iron fist during the raids, people seemed to be used to it. I wasn't sure how I felt about it. If Aelle attacked, he would go after Bjorn's tent first. Was it intentional?

Inside, Bjorn waited for us, raised eyebrow asking me where the fuck I'd been. Next to him was Floki, then the boys on his other side. Sigurd nodded at the seat beside him, next to the one that must've been meant for Halfdan. Harald closed off the circle.

"You look modest," Harald mentioned in an offhanded insult.

"I wasn't when your brother found me." At least my hair would dry quickly, now it was this much shorter.

Halfdan sat down beside me with a magnificent smile. Some dark spots still graced his shirt. It wasn't that hard to figure out I'd been bathing.

Bjorn looked irritated. "We don't have all day. What can you tell me about that camp? How many men?"

I got up again, much to his annoyance. Without blinking an eye I moved over to the fire he had burning inside to keep off the chill. There was plenty of charcoal to choose from. As I returned the boys sat up straight, perhaps a bit too used to me teaching them things with charcoal drawings. Harald took note, then ignored the boys and my gaze as I put down the first line on top of the table.

"They have only wooden fencing as their defense, with a few ladders so they can keep a watch. The beams aren't supported from behind so they probably dug them into the ground. If they withstood that storm we saw in front of us on the way over, you can bet your ass it's sturdy enough. They have experience with lesser warbands, but not with an army this size.  
"Their commander's personal tents are in the middle. It's an uninterrupted path from the entrance, but they have been settling the camp for a permanent presence. The lord is unimportant but fiercely loyal to Aelle and their god. He'll be too busy praying to his god to get his men information, so a quick strike would be the logical choice."

Bjorn had his arms crossed, looking bored. He had no intention of doing what I would suggest. His eyes warned me. They reminded me that I had promised to bring any plan up with him beforehand. He wouldn't have a choice if I pleaded my case just right.

"We can't afford any distractions," Bjorn said as I looked down at my drawing. "We're here to avenge Ragnar, not for a beautiful plan."

I narrowed my eyes. "As if I'd put anything above the safety of those I care about," I spat. "You haven't even let me explain."

"If he's got a permanent presence there, that Aethelbrith has a son."

I raised my chin up. "Not anymore."

"I've got his sword to prove it," Halfdan said. He was being a great friend, even to the surprise of his own brother. Even to mine.

"Alden was the only one that carried a bow, I had to kill him first."

"How did you kill him?" Ivar asked, seeming to see me in an entirely new light. A positive one, judging by the tiny smile that played on the corner of his lip.

"I disarmed him. I'll tell you all about it when we have a plan. We should -"

"We? I am in command here. I am responsible for what happens. I decide on the battle plans."

"Fine," I said as I sat down again, crossing my own arms. "Go ahead, inform us of your plan."

He must've had a reason to wait for me, but right now all he did was show off. How he could make perfect battle plans, how he could control me...

He had no idea what I was capable of. Scared as I had been during the whole ordeal, getting captured and escaping by myself had shown me just what I was capable of. I had every right to be confident.

"We surround the camp, let no one escape and tear it down until there is nothing left."

I snorted, then closed my eyes as I tried to imagine I didn't just do that.

"And what would be the problem with that?" Bjorn asked, head cocked as he leaned on the table, staring me down.

"Someone will be out for a walk, or scouting, or whatever. They'll see us fighting and then tell Aelle how many of us there are."

"You said we were still undetected."

"They know there is one boat here, I call that undetected. I call it staying undetected if we only take a small force to take out that camp. Have them guessing at our numbers. That's how we keep the advantage, have a few lucky ones escape and spread the message that we're here with a few hundred men. Have Aelle underestimate us."

"There's no honor in deception."

I glanced over at Hvitserk, trying to see just when he had gotten to be so reliant on Bjorn instead of me. Must've happened on their raid. He should know better than to act this dumb.

I stared at Bjorn. "There's no honor in fighting them with our full force. Make it a challenge. Light their walls on fire, cause some panic, burn their weapons before they can reach them."

"She makes a fair point," Harald said. The men wouldn't listen to me if I told them to march, but the table would. Bjorn couldn't afford that kind of dissension in the ranks. "I say we take them out with only our own men."

"There won't be much loot to gain anyway," Halfdan agreed.

Bjorn kept his face placid, he forced his rage down even further. "How many men are there in the camp?" Bjorn asked. He should've let me finish my story before he started spouting uninformed nonsense. He had made his own bed. He knew, and he resented me for his mistake.

I let him. He had hurt me once too many. If he wanted to put me on boat duty, he would only suffer for it himself. The gods had meant for me to be here, as his wife, and I would do my duty to them. It was about time Freyja needed me to do something for her, in return for all the blessings she had bestowed on me over the years.

"Less than three hundred." It swayed the boys. They knew our numbers, I had been conservative in my estimates. If all of us would come out, it would be twenty to one. "We could be in and out in fifteen minutes, and only lose some dumb fucks who don't know to watch out for fire. Wouldn't that be a tale to tell the children? The battle where no Viking lost their lives. Death in such a tiny battle would be a poor way to end up in Valhalla, anyway."

"You want messengers to escape? Have them tell Aelle we're here with what, 500 men? And have another easy battle against Aelle? Why did we gather such a great army if not to fight a great battle?" Bjorn had me there.

I held up my hands, leaving the rest to voice their opinion. My plan was solid, but if they wouldn't go for it, that was their prerogative.

"You speak as if we will only go after Aelle," Ivar said, his eyes intently switching between me and Bjorn.

“Shut up, Ivar,” Sigurd muttered.

Ivar smashed a palm on the table. "It was Ecbert who sold father out. We should kill him, too."

I put a hand on Sigurd's arm. "Oh, and then what?" I snapped. "You want to take on the rest as well? If it were up to you, we would go up to Inverness and back, and then to Galway and Cork!"

"Ragnhild," Bjorn said, his voice a warning. He was right. I couldn't speak freely here as I did at home.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," I said in Dutch.

Bjorn narrowed his eyes, then hit the table with such a force Hvitserk and Sigurd jumped up. "Enough. This is taking too long. I will decide what happens. You are here as a courtesy only. You would do well to remember that."

I wanted to snap at him, but I held back. It hurt, but I managed to swallow my pride.

"Here's what we're going to do..."


	34. Carefree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

"I had no idea it was this bad," Harald said, his arm hooked in mine. He looked like he'd won a tremendous prize, flashing his smile at everyone who thought to look. The camp was settling down now the defenses were all up, men lounging around with ale and tall tales. "I can't recall you two ever being this hostile."

"I was surprised at how civil it was," I admitted.

"Speaking of surprises, I heard about other kings that ruled on this isle, but I haven't heard of a place called Inverness. It's the place most north on this isle, is it not? How have you come to learn its name?" The place didn't even exist yet.

"It's the name I know it by, the locals have a different name. I must admit I'm embarrassed for showing my hand like that."

"You mentioned some other places, too..." He gave me a crooked look.

Getting lost in details would only hurt me. I stopped walking and looked him in the eye. "What do you want to ask me, Harald? Do you wonder about the world?"

He reached for my hand, taking my fingers in his. He fidgeted around with them, always lingering on my ring finger. "I wonder about your knowledge of the world. It's not just this place. It's from years back, when you told us about elesaunts. I saw one of their horns, it was curved like a woman's hipbone. It was the same elven bone as the comb you gave me."

I was not in the mood for political chitchat. "Then you have done as I suggested back then. You followed Bjorn, and you saw an elephant, if only part of it. What will you do, now?" That woman was still his target. It had been happenstance that had brought Harald along to the Mediterranean, and both of us knew that.

He chuckled, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. Just what was he planning to do? "You know she's here, with her new husband. He wasn't supposed to tell you." No wonder Harald had wanted his brother to control the damage he'd done.

I sighed, tired of these games. Those petty victories, small stabs under the belt, they didn't mean anything in the grand scheme of things. Ragnar had grown tired of ruling, and with these games being what they were, I understood completely. "You did the right thing, not killing her."

"The right thing for you, or for me?" Harald stood still, looking at my face.

"Not all I do is for my own good. Having the Danes with us means there's plenty of arrow fodder."

Harald chuckled again, genuinely this time. "You know, as soon as your divorce is finalized, men will be competing to win your favor. Judging by the looks you're getting, it's already started." if that were true, Harald was the first one I'd worry about.

"Is that why you're so happy to have me walk beside you?" I asked.

He'd want to throw in his lot, if only to have me as a wealth of information. I had no desire to leave Kattegat, though. Not until Bjorn would force me, slathering his new blushing bride in front of me. If he married a young girl he could have a brand new family as Ragnar had.

I would not carry another child after this one. Four children were still double of what I had thought to get years back. No one young would want to marry me. They would be greying, fat, ugly brutes, having had plenty of sons to have their names live on.

Not that I would want to have more children from a different father. This one already proved to be quite enough, nightmares of Kol creeping back as they had when I'd been pregnant with Freydis.

"I'm always happy to have a beautiful woman walk beside me. In case you haven't noticed, I've been trying to get one for over a decade." Harald guided me towards his part of the camp, where the men had secured a boar to roast over the fire. Halfdan hadn't misspoken, it smelled delicious.

"I do feel bad for imposing on you yet again. This shortly before battle..."

"Nonsense. It's an honor to have you with us. Why don't you tell the men about the plan?"

His ploy was so obvious it hurt, but it would be nice to get some good reactions to the part I had brought forward. The ones closest to us already looked our way, easy to smile or nod at me. I recognized a few from the way over.

"I know what you're doing," I told him, then stood tall all the same. A pat to his shoulder made Harald look up and remembered I didn't know how to whistle. A high-pitched sound pierced the sky, everyone that heard it turned their head to us.

"After dinner, grab your gear! Tonight we'll head up to a Saxon camp and burn it to the ground!"

They all cheered, howling at the news. It was so strange to see people happy about getting to kill other men. It made me regret going against Bjorn. Having one or two kills would have been fine, had we gone with his tactic. But no, he had gone with most of my plan. He had put Hvitserk and Ivar on clean-up, taking care of those who made a run for it. They would hardly see bloodshed. And then, behind even them, I'd pick off whomever they had left alive. Aelle would get one messenger, and one alone.

"You don't seem too happy about your plan," Harald noted as I sat back down.

I wanted to feel blood run over my hands again, have it cover my skin. If anyone told me I would get to feel that tonight, I would be cheering, too. But we knew where they would run. We knew what road they would take, close to the edge of the woods, closed off by a cliff at the other side. I'd ridden past it today. So had Halfdan and Hvitserk.

I seriously contemplating downing a horn of ale for my own, but I had taken too many risks with my child already. "Would you be happy with a place where you can barely see the fire?"

"Hmm? I thought you weren't that big on killing."

I picked at my cuticles. The bedding still held a rusty edge. "That was before."

"Is this about your fight with Bjorn?"

"I'd rather not speak of it. It's... Difficult, seeing him here. He's right about being in charge, but it's hard to take a step back when he pushes me the same way he does back home."

"Then tell him to fuck off. Claim a place in the thick of it all. He dishonors you by putting you off to the side. If Halfdan is right about your skill Bjorn would be a fool to keep you out of it." He meant it, he truly meant it. This wasn't him trying to earn my approval. He would've put me where I could be most useful.

"I've caused enough trouble for one day. I need to take a step back, watch you get in some kills, then try again. I know how to pick my battles. There will be other opportunities."

He shrugged. "You know best..." Harald steered the conversation towards the children and home. He enjoyed hearing about them and their endeavors, what things they came across during training and how they overcame those obstacles. He'd make a great father to any sons, but he didn't hide his lack of enthusiasm when I spoke of Freydis beyond her attempts to learn the bow.

"Have you never thought of learning the sword?" He asked as Halfdan joined us, returned from whatever task he'd set himself. Whatever it was, it had taken some hours. And still, I hadn't drunk alcohol. It was torture.

"I kept it secret for a reason. Shooting a bow is something you can do by yourself." The only thing that begged me to take up the sword was my bloodlust, and I didn't know how I felt about that just yet. It was strange, having it be so normal around here.

"You gave up your secret for Ragnar?" Halfdan asked. "I know you're sentimental, but for him?"

"Compared to my own father he was a dream come true. Despite his many faults and how much he cost me." I nodded at Harald as he got up, muttering something about having to drum up everyone to get ready for dinner. I didn't care what he was really up to.

Halfdan scooted closer. "What's wrong? You seemed so lively before, but you've been sad the whole day. Don't give me that look, we trust each other now, right?"

I retracted my scowl and focused back on my cuticles. They were back to normal now, aside from the ends standing up where I'd picked at them. "Alright... I hate how Bjorn put in the back."

"Then what did you talk about before you went up to the stream?" He had a glint in his eyes, sweet memories of this afternoon. At least he didn't seem to regret being used by me.

"It's complicated," I sighed, eyeing his drink.

He noticed but did nothing to improve my situation. "A demon. I know how to get rid of those. So do you."

"A whole army of them. It'll take too long to explain."

"You're full of shit. If you want anything in this life, you have to go after it yourself. Fuck the world and what they think of you. Don't do what they tell you."

I looked down at the table smiling, appreciating him taking the effort to try and cheer me up. He didn't even make me doubt his intentions.

"You're kind to say so, but some hurts cut so deep they will always leave a mark. The wound can heal, but it'll leave a scar."

"That sounds like a problem with your husband, not a demon."

"Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart. I should get my horse ready before dinner." I stood up, but Halfdan put his hand on mine. He pulled it back before I could look at his face.

He looked worried that he'd gone too far. It had been a friendly gesture... And we were friends, now. Had been since the night before we left Kattegat, but neither of us had dared put a name to it. This was him trying to figure out the boundaries. It wasn't like I was a normal friend to have. Different rules applied.

"You don't have to do everything yourself. You want that farm horse?" Before I could respond Halfdan whistled to someone, making me regret how I hadn't taken the time to learn, yet. Well, I had, but it was difficult. No matter if the twins had caught the hang of it in five minutes, to me it had been impossible even after five days of trying. If it hadn't been more by now.

"Dinner?" One of the men called out. Sigmund, his name was. I liked him, he was smart.

"Ragnhild needs her horse saddled. Brown mare, white spots on her legs. Looks like she belongs on a farm. Get Alfhild to check the horseshoes while you're at it, those have to be shit. Tell him I sent you." To my surprise the man went off without a second thought, passing his horn to one of his buddies.

"I can take care of that myself." It felt like he'd stepped on my toes.

"But you have more important things to do. Tell me about that archery of yours." He wouldn't know how to do it after a brief explanation. The way he asked, he tried to sound interested.

"I'd rather talk about something your brother mentioned just now," I said, my voice trailing off to see if Halfdan would be okay with a change of subject.

He didn't seem fazed at all. "Harald always talks out of his ass."

I glanced at him through my lashes. "He implied he wants to marry me."

Halfdan choked on his ale. It sprayed from his nose as he gasped for breath. I thought he was shocked, but he started laughing.

"I'm serious. Harald wants to use my knowledge of the world. After the divorce I'll have to beat the men off of me, he said." I frowned, realizing I was asking him for the type of information that I'd meant to keep from him. He had every right to not speak of it.

Halfdan wiped off his mouth. "As if you'd leave your brats. They're next in line after Bjorn, you'll fight for them more than you ever will for Ragnar." The brash confidence in his voice made me feel more confident about that, myself. He banged his horn against the table. Someone got up to refill it for him.

I spun around my wedding ring. "It might be nice to screw around for a while. Who knows what will happen. We could be home in a few weeks." Not that I'd get the chance, being with child. But the idea was nice. When we got back we'd get divorced, and then we would be able to start fighting about the child. Adding fuel to that fire would cause more harm than good.

"Why are you so worried about what Harald says when it doesn't matter, anyway?"

My mind exploded. Harald was still after his woman. He was planning on something, he had to. But Halfdan had told me in confidence, this was us talking as friends. Could I act on this information? Would it be a betrayal if I did?

"Honestly? I can't imagine being with someone other than Bjorn. My life will change so much when I get back, and it won't be the pretty young ones who will want to marry me. I'm too old to give them a child of their own, and I have no desire to marry some old cunt."

"Eh. You're not that young, yourself." He showed no sign of having insulted me.

"A woman's age is measured by her ability to have children," I said coolly.

"Only by those who desire children of their own. There are plenty of men who don't need it. Have you met Floki?" Halfdan was too rational about these things I mostly felt. He wouldn't give me the comfort I needed. No one here could, except Bjorn.

He'd been able to read my every thought, once upon a time. Only a look would do. No one would ever know me like he did, back when we got married. When we were happy. When he didn't ignore me right after sex.

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Sigurd. I could talk to him. He wasn't as good, but he was the closest thing I had. "Floki still has a girl to take care of, now."

"Pfah. You can't seriously support that. Helga's keeping her prisoner, it's worse than being a slave."

The hairs in my neck stood upright. "Is that so? And what would you know about being a slave?"

Halfdan gave me a disgusted look, then spat on the ground beside him. "You don't have to turn everything into a battle. Learn to live a little."

"I know how to live just fine."

He had no right to call me out, he wasn't - he was my friend. I'd called him that myself. Friends are honest with each other, and they don't lie. They don't lash out when they give each other feedback. Gods, had I forgotten everything about friendships?

Halfdan snorted. "Oh, yeah? When was the last time you did something because you wanted to?"

His question caught me off-guard. I'd spent a lot of time worrying about the kids, and with everything happing with Bjorn... I was here for selfish reasons, but also because the gods had sent me signs. Was this selfish?

Muttering, I inspected my nails. "You make me sound like a frigid bitch." Archery. That was just for me. And I got myself new clothes for the raid.

"Go on, take a risk. Go see if that pork is ready yet, I'm famished." He drew his knife, not a trace of blood left on it. "Walk up there, carve off two slices."

"I can be fun," I muttered, knowing full well Halfdan would never believe me. His whole attitude told me I'd just made the worst joke he'd ever heard. I got up, knife in hand, and walked to the pig that roasted over a low, steady fire.

Some of the men looked up. They'd been waiting for that pig longer than I had. They had to fight, I probably didn't need to shoot off a single arrow. They deserved it more.

Halfdan's eyes burned in the back of my skull. His laughter echoed in my memory. He'd given me permission, sort of. The men stared as I lifted up the knife.

This was bullshit. I'd been invited to dinner. One person extra wouldn't have that much impact on a whole roasted pig. As I poked the thickest cut with my knife, the juices ran out clear. Underneath the fire crackled, just as eager for a greasy slab of pork. It wouldn't make me sick, though I preferred it more crispy. These men wouldn't give it a chance to turn crisp.

I grabbed a plate and cut off a sizeable chunk. Halfdan's knife was sharp enough to cut through with ease. I didn't dare look at the men standing by, their stares unnerving me. My resolve faded fast as they muttered about being hungry, too. When I walked back, head held high, Halfdan held back a snort.

“Well? Do you feel alive, now?”

I shoved an elbow in his ribs as I sat down. “Fuck you, Halfdan.”

He pulled the plate towards him. "I said two slices."

"You did tell me to have a bit of fun," I reminded him as I slid the plate back. "This is for me. Go get your own." I cut the meat into smaller bites, almost burning my fingers on the hot grease.

He huffed but didn't get up. "You can't even finish that much. You're tiny.”

I took a bite, fat dripping down my chin. "I can almost look you in the eye. What does that make you?" This stuff was delicious.

Halfdan narrowed his eyes. His hand grasped the knife handle and jerked it towards him. He stabbed my plate, spearing half of the meat. As he pulled back the meat came with, but it was too greasy to stay on the knife. It fell on his lap, staining his pants.

I laughed so hard, I almost choked on my food. His face was priceless, drooping down as he picked up the piece of pork belly. A blade of grass clung to it for dear life. He looked at me, then snorted, eyebrows shooting up as he saw me almost choking. I finally managed to swallow, it almost hurt as it went down my throat.

A hand appeared on my shoulder, attached to Sigurd and his worried expression. “Auntie.”

"What is it?" I wiped the fat and smile from my face.

"Hvitserk and Ivar want to head out soon. I came to check if you were ready to leave." How long had I been with Harald and Halfdan? Was the sun close to setting already?

"I still have to change," I said as I got up, hastily taking another bite. The boys wanted to leave earlier than I'd thought. "I'll be right back, Halfdan. Can you make sure Phoebe's ready? I won't take long."

Halfdan was more than happy to take care of the rest of my plate. “Shouldn't be that much longer. Alfhild knows his stuff.”

Sigurd pulled me out towards the main path before I could respond. Was it all a ruse?

"What's going on?" I asked.

He shot me a rueful look. "I almost forgot about those smiles."

"Ah, you feel guilty. For a moment there I thought you wanted to tell me you didn't want me to fight."

He sighed. "Auntie." He said it as if to chastise me.

"What? I'm just having a little fun. It was only dinner, Harald wasn't even there.”

"So you were alone with Halfdan?" He let go of my arm, facing me with his puppy dog eyes. They didn't work this time.

I had nothing to hide. "I had dinner with a friend. Or at least, part of it. I've known him for over a decade."

His face turned serious again, flashing between expression in the blink of an eye. The last one who'd done that was my brother. "And during all that time you have known he wants to attack our home. The way you always tell about Borg's invasion, it's like I was there fighting alongside Rollo."

He was right. I shouldn't let someone like Halfdan close, already I'd bumped into all kinds of boundaries and blurred lines. But after seeing how he had been with the children, I knew he wasn't all bad.

It would blow up in my face. But it was so nice to have a friend that wasn't essentially part of the family. I needed one more than I cared to admit.

"He's having my horse's hooves checked out, he's not a threat to us right now." I looked towards my tent, pulling Sigurd along with me.

"You're playing with fire."

"You need to loosen up," I said as a joke, but Sigurd pulled on my arm, making me halt and look up at his face.

"We're about to go into battle. I don't know about you, but I am not feeling like having fun with my enemies right now. You need to focus, or you will make a mistake. I know it can't have been easy, being trapped in that camp with all the lies and deceit. You were scared to death, there."

I jerked back my arm. "I made it out. The gods were by my side. Now let go of me, I have to get changed. I can't fight off that one coward I expect to come my way in a dress." How dared he take such a tone with me.

"We will talk about this later," Sigurd said, sounding like a parent. "Something is off about you. I can't put my finger on it yet, but I will find out. You can't go off taking risks whenever you feel like it. When you need to talk, you come to me."

Over the years he had become a kind-hearted, smart boy that was easy to smile and open up to others. But now I doubted if I truly knew him, at all. It was rare to see him this upset. And most importantly, he needed to focus on the battle. He would be in the thick of it, with Ubbe and Bjorn.

He wouldn't believe me if I gave in too easily.

"I'm not ready to talk about it yet.” I never broke my promises. That wasn't who I was. If there was even the slightest hint of me not keeping my promises, I would say I'd give it my all. Sigurd knew that, too. He saw my face, filled with care and worry for him, mistaking it for the intense regret I felt. It wasn't a false promise, it was just... Obscure. On the edge. A sliver of a lie. Fully knowing what Sigurd thought it meant.

What had become of me?


	35. Senseless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

The pants fit like a second skin. The shirt was a different story. Back home I always made do with an improvised sports bra, then wore a loose shirt over it. But now, my survival could depend on my mobility. I'd need the full range of my shoulders. The shirt had to go off before I had to fire a single arrow, so I made sure to double up on the bra cloth.

For the sake of appearances, I still wore a shirt and a cloak. I'd have to ask Helga to make me a better alternative tomorrow, but for tonight it would have to do. I'd be stationed alone, anyway. If there was any reason for me to go back without covering up, it would be enough reason not to care about appearances.

Sigurd had left me behind with a sour taste in my mouth. I didn't like how he'd left me behind in the middle of an argument, but I wouldn't let it stop me. Marching on, my footsteps muffled in the half-trampled soil, I felt strong. Bjorn had meant to insult me, and for the life of me, I would take it in stride. I'd prove to him just how dumb it had been to put me in a corner.

Phoebe waited for me at Harald's camp. She looked fierce, ready for battle. Her back was covered with a fancy drape, laid over the saddle.

"Finally," Halfdan said as he saw me approaching. He tossed my bow my way before I was ready, nearly dropping it. "I should've known you'd take your time getting dressed. That horse's been jumpy ever since it got here. Turned out she didn't have any horseshoes at all. Alfhild got her sorted. Now get going, Hvitserk already came by to see what kept you." He'd gone back for a second slice of pork belly, and he'd found some bread to go with it.

I'd eat some more when I came back. "I didn't take that long. But thank you, for minding Phoebe. She looks a lot better." I stroked her head, letting her get accustomed to me. She seemed in a far better mood. I hadn't even thought to check if she had horseshoes at all. To me, it was a given, as all of our horses were used for riding.

"Damn lazy farmers. You'd think they would know how to keep their most precious possession taken care of. Anyway, you'd better get going. I'd invite you to join in on the count, but I doubt you'll see much action."

"You're still pissed I killed that bishop," I said with a smile. I peeked under the drape. Phoebe was laden with all kinds of quivers hanging from the fur between her back and the saddle. My face fell.

Halfdan focused on his food. He'd done this for me? Why? I'd never kill that many soldiers tonight. How had he gotten his hands on my arrows, anyway? They were in a chest somewhere, I'd made sure to pack enough that suited my bow.

I shook my head and checked out Phoebe's saddle. That Alfhild guy knew his way around horses. The quivers combined held at least a hundred arrows. As if I'd ever use that many. Glancing up at Halfdan, I saw he narrowed his eyes at my hesitant response.

"We trust each other now, right? Why that look?”

"We do... I'm a little surprised you'd get me a gift like this, is all. It's more than thoughtful. Deeply personal, even."

He nodded towards the west. "Get going. You don't want to miss your first battle."

"I"d sooner miss my own funeral." With a last nod, I went off, taking Phoebe by the reins. Her gait was more relaxed. Just how had Halfdan managed to get her shoed this fast, too? Alfhild being very good at what he did was just half of it.

Friendships had never had this clear of an advantage to me. I had to do something equally as thoughtful back for him, and I didn't like that added pressure. Hvitserk saw I wasn't as excited for battle as he was. He joined me as we made our way to the edge of the camp. Ivar's chariot was parked near the stables, but we didn't make it there before Hvitserk spoke up.

"What's going on with you? You're acting strange."

"You mean I'm not hounding you to make sure your shield isn't damaged?"

He moved his shield out of my sight. "No, that's not..." Hvitserk frowned, already confused about the point he was making. "What's going on with you and Halfdan?"

"Nothing you should worry about. We're friends." I wouldn't try and make a joke about it again.

"Friends?"

I rolled my eyes. "I had this conversation with Sigurd already. I know what's at stake. Don't worry about me, you'll get injured if your head is not with your enemies."

"Auntie..." Hvitserk put a hand on Phoebe as we kept walking. His eye caught the quivers poking out from under the drape. He pulled it up and peeked underneath. "Where did you come up with this?" He pulled an arrow from the quiver closest to him, inspecting the thing as he came to a standstill. His eyes shot up to mine. "How did your fletching end up on English arrowheads? Where did you get these?"

He what? Were all of them like that? I'd told Halfdan, I didn't need those arrowheads. Why would he do such a useless thing? How had he even managed to do this? "Halfdan had one of his men take care of Phoebe. You should be proud of me for not doing all of that myself. I delegated."

Hvitserk looked down at me. "And just how far does that friendship with Halfdan go?" He held the arrow out to me. He knew. These were custom made, and not by me.

“Why is this such a big deal to you?” I stared right back up, unflinching. He looked away. "Hvitserk. Tell me. Why is it such a big deal? How much are those arrowheads worth?"

"Well..." He really didn't want to answer. His eyes slid to Phoebe's other side, which held an equal number of quivers. "It's become one of those things you hoard..."

That meant they were expensive. No wonder Bjorn had always kept the arrowhead for himself. I hadn't bothered to ask since it was easier to go for the coins. It saved me a lot of time otherwise spent haggling.

"And let me guess. You think this is some big, romantic gesture? Because I can't have a friend that would give me a gift because they like me?"

"Getting Phoebe new shoeing is a gift," Hvitserk said, getting angry for some reason. "This is practically an offer of marriage. You could buy a house from these arrowheads."

"You're overreacting," I said, looking ahead of me. He was talking out of his ass.

"No, you're not understanding. Our bog iron is filled with impurities, you can't be that blind. You have to know this. It's time-consuming to do anything at all with it, and then it will never hold up to an English forged blade. This is better quality, and no one has managed to work it, yet. We can barely come close to this quality, but it's only affordable to the rich."

"So the iron is better, and so are their forges. I know that." I walked on, but Hvitserk pulled on my arm again.

"Then how come you don't understand what those arrowheads mean? Auntie, you're not listening. Halfdan's up to something, he's playing you for a fool."

I refused to believe that. Halfdan had snorted at my comment about Harald wanting to marry me. He wasn't courting me, least of all with arrows. "You forget about one detail, though. Halfdan has never shown an interest in women for longer than it takes to bed them."

"There's a first time for everything, auntie. I've never seen you make a mistake like this before, either."

I gasped. "Hvitserk! That is no way to talk to me." I couldn't believe the gall of him, where had he grown the balls to go against me like that?

He stood in front of me, hands on my arms as he pulled me close. "I won't let you go off when your head's not here." His voice was a little higher than normal.

I could only scoff. This was something else, being lectured by a kid like him. He was only eighteen, what did he know of the world? He hadn't found out Harald and Halfdan were enemies until three years ago. I'd known them for years.

"I will return the arrows," I said, more to put him at ease than to make a compromise. "It's too great a gift no matter how you look at it."

"You could buy a farm with that kind of iron," Hvitserk snapped. "I went raiding with him before, I know Halfdan in a whole different way than you do. Don't make me out to be the child here, just because you're older."

"He's not in love with me," I insisted. Halfdan merely wanted to fuck me, and after what Bjorn had done to me, I just might go for it.

Hvitserk stared at me, then huffed as he turned his eyes towards the edge of the camp.

Ivar waited for us, tapping his fingers on his helm. "You took your sweet time," he said as we got close. His eyes narrowed as Hvitserk walked past him.

I cracked my neck, then got on Phoebe. Wearing pants made getting up a whole lot easier. Hvitserk put his hand on Phoebe's back. He lifted the drape before I could stop him, revealing even more quivers.

"I'm riding with you," Hvitserk told Ivar as he moved around Phoebe, not even casting me a second glance. Ivar threw me a confused look, but then let the reins fly. His own mare started walking, prompting Phoebe to want to follow. We were still getting used to each other, and if I could figure out how she wanted to be treated that would mean a significant advantage when I was chasing down enemies.

The quivers in front of me kept me from having full range with my knees. Halfdan should've checked with me before, this was just a bother. No matter how much these arrows were worth, it was all useless if I died in battle.

"What's up with that contraption?" Ivar asked as he looked over. I moved the quivers around, trying to find a better position for them.

"Just something I've been working on for a while," I lied. Hvitserk shot me a dirty look. "Don't want to risk running out of arrows."

"Well, for your sake I hope that scrawny bow of yours is strong enough to pierce their armor. Or you'll be stuck aiming for necks all the time."

"Oh, I wouldn't be too worried about that."

Ivar wanted to comment, but he kept silent as Hvitserk got on the back of his chariot. The sun would set in about an hour, just enough time to get back to where I'd killed Alden.

If Halfdan had developed feelings for me, it was a recent thing. He'd surprised me over the past few days, but I hadn't seen a glint in his eyes that betrayed there was more going on. It was just... No, it couldn't be. I couldn't explain the gift any other way, though. He wasn't exactly generous. Then again, he didn't really have friends to be generous with. He only shared things with Harald.

Hvitserk must have misread his intentions. But most likely, Halfdan meant to throw in his lot with everyone else. Yes, that made sense. He was doing this on behalf of Harald. This was just the start of an effort to woo me with gifts. That was all. I'd return them after the battle, and all would be well. I'd have to be more wary of lavish gifts coming my way.

The ride over seemed shorter this time, despite the lingering tension and the constant hold-ups. We kept out of sight from the camp, making our way through the bushes for at least a part of the ride. It was slow going with Ivar's chariot, the forest dense. The ground was uneven enough for the cart to fling him left and right, rattling Hvitserk, too.

"How much further is it?" Ivar muttered after grazing the side of his chariot against a tree for the umptieth time. Hvitserk got off again to push the chariot over the roots it had gotten caught in.

"Let me check if it's safe to take the road." I guided Phoebe to the right. Glad as I was to be away from Hvitserk and his angry looks, I felt bad. Something wasn't right between me and the boys, and now I was fighting with two of them. Three, since Ubbe still resented me over not trusting him anymore. We'd been distant ever since.

I'd lied to them, repeatedly. So they wouldn't hate me, so they wouldn't get hurt themselves. No wonder it had ended up like this. Even if Hvitserk and Sigurd were wrong, I'd done nothing to indicate I respected their views and feelings. This wasn't who I wanted to be. Was it because of the pregnancy, or had I lost my way?

Phoebe whinnied, pulling me from my thoughts. The road came in sight. I got off, leaving Phoebe as I sneaked towards the edge of the woods. Two dark shapes moved beyond the trees. In twilight, the dark of their armor they stuck out like a sore thumb.

I got out my bow and nocked an arrow, eager to get in a kill. They would probably be the only two I would get today. Watching my footing as I kept an eye on them, I got even closer.

"... how she's doing. I heard she lost her husband out at sea."

"I'd rather think of what she hid in that tight dress of hers."

“Didn't like her face. Too long. You're just desperate for something new.”

Despicable. Why were all men pigs at heart?

The left one died first. The arrow pierced his chainmail effortlessly. Maybe Halfdan had been onto something.

"Aethelwirth?" The right one died three seconds later. It hadn't been satisfying in the least. They'd been slacking off during their trek, just out of sight of the camp. A barely visible plume of smoke rose above the trees that hid the camp.

"Damnit, auntie! You can't just go off shooting scouts, what were you thinking! What if there were more trailing after?"

I turned around, leaning up against a tree as Hvitserk came close. His expression was hard as he approached, not at all affected by my raised eyebrow. That look used to strike terror into his heart.

"I think you're taking this a little too far, Hvitserk. I'm not in need of a parent. I know when I can and can't kill someone. Don't embarrass yourself."

"I'm worried about you," he snapped. "It's like I don't even know who you are right now. What's gotten into you?"

A chill ran down my spine. "I know better than to pick a fight right before battle." I turned back and gestured for Ivar to come out of the woods. The coast was clear.

"Then stop acting like a bitch. You're not the woman you were when we left."

His words were a dagger to the heart. Freydis had asked me to come back and still be her mother. "Just get rid of the bodies. I'll come back when the moon starts to lower, who knows how long those cowards will wait. Don't bother riding up to fetch me, I'll kill you before you think to whistle." I turned to Phoebe. Had he seen me choke up?

Hvitserk pulled at my arm. He pressed me up against his chest. "Never separate in anger. I love you." He melted away my anger, as he had many times before. Seven words, that was all it took for him to win me over.

"I love you, too. May the gods be with you."

He smiled as he let go of me, taking a deep breath. To him, it was settled. For now.

I envied him. No matter what, we were never mad at each other for long. I used to be able to let go of things. I didn't use to lie to the boys, either. I had to focus.

"We have to get going," Ivar said. He didn't look like he wanted to do the hugging thing, and I respected that.

"Make your father proud," I said, then turned back to Hvitserk. He gestured for me to get going as I still had a little distance to cover. He'd take care of the bodies. Maybe tonight, he and Sigurd could take care of me.


	36. Breathless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

The moon rose high over the trees, but still, there was no sign of smoke in the distance. Had they changed the plan? Why wasn't the camp set on fire yet?

The sky barely clouded, the smoke would be visible for miles, even through the canopy. Harald and men were supposed to light up the camp just after nightfall. But still, there was nothing in sight.

Not that it mattered. Aelle was meant to find out about us tonight. If all they saw was smoke and a ruin, they would still guess at our numbers.

I'd taken off the shirt as soon as I got in position. The chill of the spring night started to get at me. I got off Phoebe and paced across the clearing in the woods, clinging to the edges of my cloak as I moved. It could be a while longer, still. I hated not knowing what would happen.

"I'll get back at you for this," I told the moon. "I'm not your wife here, and right now I don't even want to be when we get home. Fucking pig."

The gods had truly done a number on me. I had come to England because I was pregnant, because they had given me signs, because Bjorn had not crushed all of my hope, had left a spark to reignite the flame.

I was a fool. A dumb, love-struck teenager, looking for love in the wrong place. I had the boys, I had the twins and Freydis, and soon I would have my little sprout. Would it be a girl? Or a boy? I would love another girl, have her be as confident as Siggy and as kind and caring as Freydis. But if it would be a boy, I'd get to see Thormund acting like a different kind of brother, altogether.

I didn't need Bjorn to be happy. The baby would take my mind off of everything. Before I gave birth we'd probably have to move. It would be best to do that before I gave birth. A crib would cramp up the entire house, there was no way a fourth bed would fit. Not to mention the lack of space for weapons.

Who knew, these arrows would get us a nice house at the beach. Those were pricey, but after a raid was the best time to buy a new one. Everyone knew that. Besides, the arrows were a gift freely given. I didn't owe Halfdan shit. I could let Sigurd have my house in exchange for his help taking care of the little one, he needed a roof over his head either way. Hvitserk could move in with him, then he'd be rid of Ivar while we were at it.

Hoofbeats overtook the crickets' chirping. I'd told Hvitserk not to bother coming here. I got my bow out all the same and slung a quiver over my back. It couldn't be much longer now; I'd better get ready.

As I took off my cloak I realized the hoofbeats weren't coming from the east. They were from the west, and it wasn't just one horse. There wasn't a chariot, either. These were enemies approaching.

I didn't have time to think. I slid off Phoebe and sneaked closer to the edge of the forest. The moonlight revealed six soldiers, all ahorse, riding two abreast. I'd nocked an arrow before I knew it.

I could just let them pass. They had no idea I was here.

They would run into Hvitserk and Ivar. They were too far apart to aid each other on time. If I didn't take care of these riders I would lose at least one of them, if not both. I could pierce armor better than them, at least take care of one or two before I disappeared into the trees again.

One of the riders in the last row fumbled with a pack. The arrow left my bow before I'd thought it through. I veered up as it struck his chest. He slumped down, but before his body fell his neighbor had an arrow in his chest, as well.

The one in the middle row closest to me must've heard something. "Attack! We're under at -" He died for calling out, but the other three were aware, halting their horses.

They got out their shields. I landed another shot before they all got in line. Did they realize I was alone? Had we been with more they would have died off faster. Would they realize in their panic?

I took a few steps back, hiding in the shadows of the trees. Did they know where the arrows had come from? I moved away from Phoebe all the same. Better safe than sorry.

Everyone had told me that in the thick of battle, a rush took over. It faded fatigue and slowed everything down. I'd thought they talked about adrenaline, but I'd rarely felt more aware and in control. I accelerated, not a step misplaced, nor a detail slipping my attention.

The horses on the road stayed calm, despite the scent of blood. They were well bred, judging by the way they carried themselves. Similar armor, same weaponry. Trained soldiers, with Aelle's colors. Had they come to investigate the disappearance of the bishop?

"These are our arrowheads," one of them said. "Never seen an arrow this short, though. Strange fletching."

"Ecbert?" His partner sounded more anxious. I couldn't risk taking a look, yet.

"Don't think so. Us halting scared them off, or we'd be surrounded now. I'm betting some local hunters after easy loot. Maybe they're after the horses.”

Fuck. They'd come looking for me. If they found Phoebe I was fucked.

“Nothing to worry about? The others are dead. There have to be more of them out there."

"Fletching's the same on all the arrows. See how short these are? It's not castle-grade, these are amateurs." That one was smart. His voice was deeper than the other one's.

"Something's up, I'm telling you. We should head back, now." The other's voice rose as he grew more nervous.

"You think that's more than a local hunter out there? Where's your mind gone off to? Vikings? Did the sight of Ragnar Shittypants dying make you fear for their return?"

I had to end this, quickly. They would scare off the cowards. Those two would die, and I would savor the taste of their kills. I had to find a better position, where their shields weren't in the way.

"I'm serious. There's someone out there. Can't you feel it? Four men died, for God's sake."

"It wasn't just the luck of the draw that made us ride up front. God will keep us safe. We'll search these woods for a bit, you'll see. They're long gone. "

Amazing, how conceited people could be. He was so convinced of the right of his god that it made him careless. I'd have to get the other one, first. As I nocked an arrow, a thought pulled at my mind. It wouldn't let go. It tore at me like Hvitserk's puppy-dog eyes.

I had put the same amount of belief in the gods. I had been just as conceited, about me being here. Fuck. The boys had been right. I hated being wrong. I'd raised them well enough not to enjoy it, only making things worse.

I didn't enjoy taking out the doubter, nor did I take pleasure in the fear in the eyes of the deep-voiced believer as he realized he was the only one left. He knew where the arrow had come from, and still, he didn't run off. He just waited, as if I wouldn't get him eventually.

"Who goes there! Come out here and fight like a man!"

As if I'd risk my life for the honor of a Saxon. This was just pathetic. His eyes flitted around, but I only had to wait for Phoebe to whinny to have him move his shield a bit more to his right, leaving his side open to me. I'd expected more of a challenge.

I forced myself to be glad about the result. I'd taken out six men by myself. That was more than I had thought to get away with at first. Annoyed, I dragged the bodies into the shadows, where they wouldn't deter any cowards from fleeing down the road. If they would scatter into the woods on either side, I'd miss my chance to kill them.

These men were supposed to be the best of the best. At the least they all carried swords. If arrowheads were expensive, these would be even better. I knocked on a shield, made of iron as well. Just who had I killed? Was I just that good?

With the bodies gone I only had to move the horses into the forest. They were happy to follow, bred into submission. I'd give the boys one each, they would be happy to have them. At least it was a pathetic attempt at an excuse.

"What's taking so long?" I asked Phoebe as I looked up at the sky. There was still no smoke to be seen. "Maybe I should go and check? I doubt Ivar and Hvitserk will know what's up, though. It's best to wait here, but it's so quiet..." The silence forced me to think about things. I didn't want to face myself. Fighting was easier.

In the distance, crickets resumed their songs. The trees swayed in the chilly breeze; leaves rustling and lulling me into a false sense of security. For a moment I gave into it, letting my mind drift to the twins. They would want to know how it was, a full detailed account of the day-by-day. I'd have to disappoint them if this kept up.

I was a whiny little bitch. I knew this was part of it, back in Paris we had gone whole days without anything exciting happening. Raids weren't just non-stop battles. Just because I thought the gods had some plan for me being here didn't mean it was so. I had to get my act together, this was exactly what the boys had warned me about. I had to stay focused, or I would lose someone dear to me. That was worth any amount of boredom.

How had I fucked up this badly? The boys needed me to help them grow up, not keep them down. Ubbe was still an idiot for marrying Margrethe, but all the rest? I should've been honest about their mother from the start. Keeping it from them had caused a rift. I was their auntie. And auntie never lied. I didn't deserve that title, not anymore. I'd let them down, and all they did in retaliation was worry over me.

The smoke finally rose up, a thin pillar at first. The moon hid behind faint clouds, but they didn't obscure the looming darkness in the east. Aelle would know we were here soon enough. I had to be patient. Whatever the gods wanted to happen, it would come soon enough. Nothing good had ever come from forcing a prophecy to come true.

I had to wait for the cowards. The horses were out of sight, as were the bodies. The first one would get a pass, but not the second. With some luck, I'd run into a third. Maybe some time for myself out here would be good. I could work on my apologies for the boys. The gods knew they earned one.

I taught them better, and now they were schooling me on those exact lessons. How had I forgotten in the first place? Maybe it would be better if I -

More hooves. Off in the distance, but it was there. More than one horse.

I switched out quivers. By Odin's eye, Halfdan had given me enough arrows to not have to worry about that. I didn't want to think about him. If the boys were right, I would be in a world of pain once I'd get back to camp.

The riders came from further inland again. I returned to where I'd shot the first four victims from. The spot was perfect for staying out of sight but in range.

They rode two abreast, five rows, going slower than the first group had. With a bit of luck, I would take out at least a few, then scare the other half into riding on. If I could take on half, Ivar and Hvitserk together should have no trouble with the rest. They would hear the same hoofbeats thundering towards them. I could trust they were smart enough to realize. Hvitserk wouldn't stay standing in the middle of the road, in full sight. I had to believe he was better than that.

I nocked an arrow, taking my time to get a good view of the two at the back. Hvitserk could still be caught unaware. He was easily distracted in battle, what if he got distracted when it mattered? What if he was out on an open field? He wouldn't run away. He'd face off against multiple horsemen. Shit. Would Ivar help his brother out?

One of the men up front noticed the smoke up ahead. He called out, the rest of the train sitting up straight. Fuck. They paid closer attention than the last group. The two middle riders carried something in between, the horses tied together. Whatever it was, it slowed the group down. Those I would save for last.

Hvitserk would never get away in time without a horse. He stood on an open field. I'd have to take out at least half, and then maybe he would survive. Fuck. I couldn't let them continue on. But I couldn't risk my own life, either. Fuck.

Death before dishonor. I took aim.

My child would die with me. My fingers lingered on the string.

The others would know I'd let them pass. They would have every right to blame me for Hvitserk's death. Maybe Ivar's, too. I pulled back.

I had young children to get back to. I hesitated on the release.

This was impossible. Once I made a choice I'd have to stick with it. Eyes wide open, I adjusted my aim.

What had become of me? Who did I want to be?

A thrum echoed in my ears.

The impact of the arrow made the man lean back. The second man died seconds later. I loved how slowly his head fell back, only the arrow in his chest revealing he had died. The first man tumbled to the ground, but the horse kept on trodding, merely shaking out its mane. The men's nervous half-shouts provided all the cover I needed. Four rows left to go. That smoke was the perfect distraction.

Taking only a moment to let my breathing dictate when to let the arrows fly, I knocked off two others. Then someone looked back. The horse carrying the third corpse whinnied and stopped. It dragged a shadow behind him, his rider's foot must've been stuck in the stirrups. As one of the men shouted out, I killed one of the riders up front, hitting the back of his neck.

I'd killed half. That was enough. I could hide here in the forest, heading to the horses for cover. If my guess was correct they would care more about that chest than they would about the bodies of their peers and their horses. They would count their blessings as they headed for the camp. Maybe I'd kill one more if they left their backs open to me.

"It's a traitor! These are our own arrowheads!"

"Find those cunts! Fuck their shit up!"

My eyes crossed over for half a second. I retreated back into the forest, one hand held out behind me. They rushed into the first few feet of forest, shields up and weapons out. I'd been dealing with cowards before, these were true soldiers. Four men came up into the bushes, the fifth staying back with the horses.

The man on the road called out. "There's blood out on the road! They took out the others here, too!"

"Give up lads, we're king Aelle's personal guard! As soon as we find you you're dead!"

The shouter was closest to me. His shield obscured his side, but his helmet didn't cover his neck as he looked my way.

He died with an awfully loud grunt. Four left. They weren't going anywhere until they'd found me. I had to get out of this mess. If one of them managed to get close I was dead. I closed my eyes, taking a calming breath. It came out ragged. I didn't have time to calm down.

I couldn't afford to lose my mind, either. One step at a time. Move positions. Stay in range. Stay out of sight.

They would figure out where I'd shot from. One of them would find the horses, soon. I could pick off at least one there. Finding seven saddled horses would make everyone look twice.

"Hey, you! Gutter rats! Did you make those shoddy arrows yourself! We'll get you!"

"We'll gut you!"

I'd hear them coming. After all I'd heard about Ecbert I had been sure Aelle would be more careful. I could use any scrap of luck the gods saw fit to throw my way. I took a wide circle past the shouting, circling back to the horses while making sure they were all between me and the road. It also gave me a moment to think.

Hand slung over my shoulder, I counted my arrows, just to be safe. A nervous habit, I knew just how many arrows -

Three.

No, this couldn't be. I always put in fifteen. Every quiver, no exception. I'd shot off six. There were supposed to be nine left. I always put in fifteen.

Except, I hadn't put in these arrows. Alfhild had. Superstitious cunt! Halfdan's gift would be the death of me!

I had to pass by Phoebe if I wanted to survive. It would take me straight into the trap I'd hoped to spring on them.

They closed in on me. If they surrounded me, I was dead.

Body and mind. Both had to be here. Body and mind. My heart beat in my throat. Darting to a tree further into the forest, I knew I was fucked either way. They could kill me. This could be the end. I'd been a fool, I deserved it. After all the mistakes I'd made, I deserved it. I'd thrown all I had away for love.

From the corner of my eye, I saw something move. My arrow was off before I could think.

"Ahh! Fucking bastard! He shot me!"

I hid behind the next tree. My back pressed against it. They'd find me. I had to do something. My breathing was too loud. I covered my mouth.

"Godric!"

"Cunt got my leg! Kill that fucker!"

He was out of the fight. That's all I needed. He wouldn't come after me. I'd have to finish him off later. Three were left standing, two out here and one on the road. First, I had to reload. First rule of shooter games. Reload when you can. Always keep an eye on your ammo.

The horses stood close by. Angry shouts rose up from the woods behind me but I didn't pay them any mind. As long as they shouted, I was safe. Phoebe barely looked up as I came to her and filled up the quiver. I forced myself to count them. Fifteen.

I looked around, seeing only the horses move. My eyes went back to the quiver. Again. There were fifteen arrows in this quiver. This was not the time to make careless mistakes. I almost slung it over my shoulder. Was I certain? I counted a third time. Five, ten, fifteen. Three times five.

Satisfied, calmed down, I slung the quiver on my back. The wind picked up, blowing the smell of fire my way. The horses whinnied, scraping their hooves at the undergrowth. I had to get away before they'd catch anyone's attention.

A shadow rushed towards us. I bent down. Fuck. Had he seen me? He must've come from the woods. If I used my bow the thrum would echo clear as day now the soldiers had stopped shouting. Had the pair in the forest stuck together? It was the smart move, fanning out was setting themselves up for me to - the shadow wore regular pants.

He came from the camp; it matched up with the timing. Should I let him live? It was so much safer to kill him, screw the plan. Aelle would find out about us sooner or later. He was short a bishop, and a fortified camp. It wasn't worth my life.

"Find that fuckface and be done with him!"

The coward's head snapped up at the shouting. He took hold of some reins and guided a horse off to the right. Did he want to return to camp? With some luck, the soldiers would think that coward had shot their friends. They would chase him as he headed - Fuck!

They would head straight for Hvitserk again! With the battle raging in front of him, he'd be even more distracted. I followed the coward at a safe distance. The one I'd shot cried out, egging the coward on to move faster.

At least this horsethief would distract the others so I could take them down one by one. By the time they realized what went on, I'd be facing better odds.

The man on the road had come down from his horse, shield up as he approached the edge of the road. If he died, one of the men in the forest would likely take his place. If not, I'd wait for them to come to me. Had I shot their archers, yet?

The moon was darkened, but I kept my distance. I had to keep track of the coward, but I didn't dare put my back to the woods too long. Either way, my next shot was too important to screw up. I had a promise to Freydis to keep.


	37. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

The coward almost reached the road. I gauged the road soldier, an arrow nocked as I glided forward to get him at an angle. A breeze passed through the canopy. The road soldier focused on the forest to my left, while the coward would pull his attention to the right.

In the distraction, I would have a near perfect shot, but it had to happen fast. Behind me were still two soldiers looking to kill me. They had to believe it was the coward that attacked them so I could continue to kill them off one by one.

A twig snapped to my right. I stepped forward, focused on the soldier's neck. His shield banged on the ground. I took the shot.

My right side burned. He'd hit me, but no arrow stuck out of my abdomen. I gritted my teeth as I stumbled, then fell. Shouting out meant certain death. He could've killed me...

"I got him! He's down, by the road!"

I rolled back behind the tree, clinging to my bow. Whatever my wound looked like it was bound to get infected. If I lived that long. My shot had been quicker than his. What'd happened? I pressed my hand on the wound. Had the bolt scraped my hipbone? Or did it always hurt this bad? At least nothing hung out. It was only a superficial wound, I had to believe that. If I stayed put, I would die. If I didn't kill that bastard, I would die.

His crossbow needed to reload. That was my window. I had to kill him, then get to another spot.

One step at a time. First the road soldier. One step at a time.

Bottom lip shaking from exertion, I sat up. Shooting another arrow would be painful. But I had to. I'd promised the children I'd come back. They'd kill me if I died.

The road soldier would come at me when he'd reloaded. Crossbows made a sound when they got wound up, though. Silence ruled, only interrupted by the slightest of breezes. Something was off.

I had to risk a peek to find out more. One hand up against the side of the tree, I stopped.

They were trained soldiers. Thick armor to protect the investment. Multiple weapons. He'd dropped the crossbow, drawing a sword or a knife instead. Fuck. I had to find him, fast. Distance was my only friend. Left or right, which way would I lean? I needed my right arm to pull back the string, the tree would provide me with cover. If he was smart, he would realize that, too. Did he know what tree I'd hidden behind?

I scooted to the right, wound flaring as it scraped over the ground. I had to use every advantage I could get. A single sob escaped my lungs, tears welling up. I lay on my stomach, clutching the bow in my right hand. I'd be able to shoot if I rolled onto my left side, but it would be hard to hit anything vital.

He could be anywhere by now. I glanced over the grass that hid me from his sight. He looked for me at eye height. Sword in hand, he slowly made his way over. His shield hid his face. I could shoot his leg, as I had done with the other two. I'd have to move my arm to readjust my aim for the shot. He was too close; he'd hear.

I would've had the perfect shot, had I been able to stretch out my arm fully. Like this, I might not get through his armor. Behind me leaves rustled. The man in front of me let out a sigh of relief, lowering his shield.

"In the name of Christ, will you stop being such an idiot," the road soldier hissed. "He was just here, can't have gone far. I hit him; the body should be arou - "

A horse whinnied off the road. The road soldier turned to the camp, then ran off. Another set of boots followed, nearly stepping on my bow.

The gods were with me. They protected me. I'd get to keep my promise.

"There he is! Get him!" The road soldier went back for his crossbow. It would take too long to reload. He'd never make the shot, but I couldn't risk going after the road soldier with another soldier behind me.

The one from the woods rushed up to his friend. He tripped over something before he reached the road and barely managed to keep standing. I rolled on my good side, pulled back my arrow and waited for my shot. The man spun around in his stumbling. My wound tore open again, bringing tears to my eyes.

For a split second, we locked gazes. His mouth opened, a first syllable escaped. My arrow flew into his chin, piercing his skull from below. His head whacked back, then his body collapsed.

"Walden, get over here! He's getting away! Walden! Lefwyne!"

I got to my feet, leaning against a tree in the half-shadows that crept over the edge of the woods. My bottom lip shook as I reached over my shoulder for another arrow. Probably Walden lay dead now, on top of two corpses I'd dragged off the road.

I'd have to cut this short. It would hurt like a bitch to fire off three more arrows, but as soon as they were all dead, I could breathe easier. My blood soaked the edge of my pants, but I refused to look down. If I took the time to look at it, I'd be dead anyway.

The road soldier took a stance. The coward would get out of my range if the soldier waited much longer. The hoofbeats sounded fainter by the second.

The bolt released. I shot the bastard. The crossbow fell from his hands, the white, pasty nape of his neck smeared with darkness. Only one left.

I stepped out to the road. The coward threw a look back, unharmed as his horse galloped off. That useless piece of shit had missed. It would be a longshot for me, but I had to try.

I gritted my teeth, failing to keep a grunt in as I pulled back the arrow. The string dug into my face. this had to be perfect. This was for Hvitserk and Ivar. They could get caught off-guard. Thinking of them kept the pain at bay long enough to pull back. My breath left my lungs, then the thrum echoed in my ear. My hand shot to my side, tears rolling down my face.

The coward cried out. He reached for the arrow in his back, then left it where it was. It hadn't been enough to kill him. Shit. At the least, he'd be at a disadvantage in a fight. Another shot would be useless at this point. They would see this one coming.

The breeze turned, blowing the smoke above the camp in another direction. The moon was always a traitorous bitch in the stories. Tonight, she would betray our enemies. The coward rode in full light.

Sobbing hurt my side, but I didn't care. I still lived. I could rest for a moment, out of sight of the road. I'd make my way back to our camp as soon as I felt better.

If another coward came this way, I wouldn't stop him. Even though the pain grew dull as the seconds went by, I didn't want to fight with such a wound. Still, I didn't dare look. I removed my quiver from my back and rested a little easier against the bark. I'd been careless, assuming every quiver had fifteen arrows. Who the fuck put only nine arrows in a quiver?

No matter the arrowheads, fifteen was just a good number. If I'd grasped at a few and held four or five of them in my hands as everyone else did in battle, I would've been fucked over sideways. The way I ran, no arrows flew out my quiver anyway.

I'd struck down six guards before I'd refilled. The wounded one would still be walking if it weren't for my quiver. Even now, I had plenty of arrows left. Five, ten, plus one made eleven. One shot missed and -

Three corpses. The quiver never lied, not after checking it three times. Someone still walked. A second wounded in the leg.

I had to get up. It felt better, but the strain of getting to my feet hurt the wound. Should I go back into the woods? Or stay here? Either way, I'd want to be prepared. I wouldn't be careless again.

I checked the body on the road first. Bow and arrow in my left hand, I didn't find a pulse in his neck. I kept my eyes trained at the edge of the forest, only blinking away for a second at a time. The arrow had pierced his armor and had cracked his ribs, white hard fragments nestled in the tunic underneath his chainmail. Bone. His ribs had shattered. Punctured lung, perhaps even two if the depth of the arrow was something to go by.

These arrows were more lethal than anything I'd ever seen before. And this was at half strength. Halfdan had saved my life by gifting me these.

A glint at the corpse's neck caught my eye. It looked like gold. How would a soldier get something that valuable? Why take it with him on a trip like this? Riding with a chest, at night?

I felt around for the glint, keeping my eyes out for the walker. The glint hung on a leather thong. I removed it from his neck, then held it up to my face.

A key? It shimmered in the faint light. No wonder he stayed near the road. He'd been charged to protect the chest. My eyes wandered over to the horses. Whatever was inside, it was the cause of my troubles.

Either way, my life was more valuable. Two men still needed to die. The walker would be close after the ruckus the others made as they died, my bow the one thing that scared them off. I had to remain alert.

Careful not to rise too high, bow and arrow at the ready, I sneaked to the forest line and I kicked at the soldier with an arrow lodged in his chin. The arrow was stuck in his helmet. He should've known women are lethal. I spat at his corpse.

The coward would almost be upon Hvitserk and Ivar. Maybe he'd avoid them and hide until they were gone.

A pitiful whining rang out from the forest before me, then got muffled.

They feared me. I was the hunter. That meant they didn't have any long-ranged weapons nearby. My blood rushed through my veins, the lust eager to come out and play. Not yet. I had to focus.

I reached for the knife on Walden's belt and walked back to the road to cut the string of the crossbow. I wouldn't give my advantage up without a fight. I wanted to keep the knife on me, but I didn't wear a belt. I didn't have any pockets, either. Fuck. Getting one off a soldier would take too long. I'd have to rely on my bow.

I hurried towards the horses. I'd approached them from an angle, passing by that birch. Or was it the one ten feet beside it? Damnit! In my panic, I hadn't remembered. Where had I come from? Judging by the place I'd started from at the edge of the woods, and then the detour I'd taken to avoid detection...

The left one, the wider circle. Panic made me forget half the things I saw and heard. Head low, eyes flitting between the ground and eye height, I closed in on them. A brave cricket resumed its song. They were hiding.

The wounded soldier sat propped up against a tree, fingers prodding in his thigh. A thin stream of moonlight hit a swat of grass by his feet. His hand was a bloody mess. He must've ruptured his artery when the arrow got yanked out. The more he moved, the fainter he got. I'd already killed him.

The bloodlust wanted me to snap his neck. Would I save him from the pain like that? Did I have mercy for a Saxon? The bloodlust simmered down.

He hadn't done anything to me, personally. What would happen if I gave up on that part of me? Would I hate Christians for believing what their parents did before them?

I'd been like him, once. I'd believed in God. Not all of it had been bad. The trouble began when people got involved. Those always screwed things up, my father amongst the worst of them. I shook my head, not wanting the past to catch up with me. I was my own woman.

"You'll die," I said in a soft voice.

He jerked up his head all the same. "Who are you?"

"I'm the one who shot you."

"You're a woman," he said as if that meant I was a liar.

I got up from my crouch and moved in front of him. "I'm Viking."

His eyes widened, his mouth opening slowly. "But you speak our language."

"I wasn't born one. I still remember what it means to show mercy."

His face fell to a frown. The corner of his lip pulled up. His eyes tried to pierce mine, staring at me intensely.

"You're a woman," he repeated, then spat beside him. "You couldn't kill me if you tried."

"Suit yourself. I hit an artery. If I were you, I'd start praying. You have about ten minutes left to live." A lie. Another one that came too easy. Ragnar had ruined me by pulling me into his games. I'd had to learn the art of lying, once upon a time. Now I feared having to stop.

He tried to spit again, but only a few droplets left his mouth. "You'll die with me, you heathen whore." Pathetic. He tried to get up, grunted, fell down again. A knife fell on the ground beside him.

I kicked it away before he could grab for it. Some trap they had built. His friend either hid in the shadows, watching my every move, or he had fled.

The dying man moaned, yammering to himself. The king's finest, no doubt. The other one couldn't be that far off. I started to comb the area.

"Viking slut! You will burn in Hell for all eternity! Get back here so I can kill you!"

As much as I wanted to shout back, I had no desire to give my position away.

"I can still see you! Get back here!"

I turned around and shot an arrow through his head. Next arrow. Only the walker was left. Almost there. One step at a time.

My bow got yanked back.

I clung to it, spinning on my toes. He'd found me. Fuck. He grabbed hold of my wrist. I jerked my arm. It hurt my side. He was stronger.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. I would die here. He was too strong. I'd never break free on strength alone.

"What's this? I thought Sherman couldn't be right in the head after that much blood loss. You really are a woman. You killed all the others? By yourself?" He was more surprised than angry.

I spat at his face. "Let go of me! Fucking asshole, I'll kill you!"

"Ha! Like that help you. You have some explaining to do. They'll want to see you, or they won't believe a word I say. I might have to make sure you're a woman, though..." His eyes slid over my chest, which was only covered with a cloth. It wasn't modest by any means.

"Touch me and you'll die," I spat. He laughed, then dragged me along towards the road. I tried to break free, but it was useless. The man's hands were strong, he wasn't just a sword fighter. He could kill me with ease, but I couldn't let him try without putting up a fight. I had to try.

"You know, some men like a feisty woman. Not me. I prefer them lying still, like after I beat them up." A pathetic threat. As if his mind was on rape after I'd killed all of his friends. Revenge, maybe, but he knew he needed me. Hurting me now wouldn't help sway me to his cause.

I stopped struggling. He dragged me to the horses. His head slowly turned to me as he saw the number of them. His intent to kill me changed the atmosphere around us.

"You killed them all?" He pulled at my wrists, took them both in one hand. He opened one of the saddlebags. The longer he rummaged around, the weaker his grip became.

I jerked my wrists down and spread my elbows, breaking his grasp. My blood rushed. I took a step forward.

The walker shouted as he turned around. Time itself slowed down. My hand slid to his knife. His arm came down as I withdrew. He faced the edge of his blade. I aimed the knife at his chest. He tried to grab hold of me, fingers scraping over the cloth. He had to lean back to avoid the knife.

It bounced off his armor. I almost lost my grip. I screamed, tried to get in another stab aimed for his neck. He grabbed my throat, first. He squeezed. I grunted.

I couldn't breathe. The bloodlust left me as soon as it had come up. I'd been a fool to trust it.

"Fucking whore! How dare you!" He pushed me back until I tripped and fell on the ground. The blow smacked the air from my lungs, replacing only little before the walker's grip tightened again. His body loomed over me. The knife was still aimed at his neck; I couldn't let go. He hit my side with a knee. Tears blurred my vision.

I had to keep my cool. Stab him, get air. My nails stopped scratching at his fingers, pulling at his hand that fought the knife instead. His chokehold disappeared. I sucked in as much air as my lungs would take.

The knife shot towards his throat. Coughing, wheezing, I pushed the knife up further. Just one stab, then it was over. But the knife stopped, merely shaking as we both pushed. The only advantage I had was holding the handle.

"Auntie!"

Hvitserk? What had brought him here? He would pull that fucker off me, he'd kill him. I was safe. I would survive, as long as I kept holding on. I wanted to close my eyes, brace for the coming seconds, but I didn't dare take my eyes off my hands.

"Hvitserk!"

The soldier tried to cover my mouth, but as soon as he moved his hand, the knife shot towards his throat again.

"Fucking bitch," he grunted, then changed his grip on my hand. He managed to turn the knife around, slowly, overpowering me. He nearly snapped my wrist, leaning on it with all his weight. My elbows dug into the ground. The handle almost touched my chest. I'd never get it up to his throat without help.

"Auntie! Where are you!"

"Here!" The knife turned further. It pointed at his chest now, but I couldn't push it in. I could barely keep it from pointing at me. "Hurry!" I shouted, trying to get the knife to turn to his throat again, but I could only prolong. I had to buy myself time, no matter how much my side hurt. The pain was better than dying. "Horses!"

"I'll kill you," the man said, pushing at the knife even harder. "And then I'll kill that boy calling out to you. He'll never make it here in time."

He was right. Hvitserk sounded too far off. Still, there had to be a way out. I didn't want to die here. But he was stronger, he could apply more pressure. He would win. I wasn't strong enough to stop him.

The knife pointed at his gut. He pushed down, I pushed up. He was stronger. It was as simple as that. Hvitserk might've pulled him away from me, or maybe kick him aside.

To the side. What if I pushed for where the knife was aimed? It was better than not trying anything.

His eyes widened with a slight hint of horror. He hesitated, and for just a second his grip stopped turning and pressuring my wrist. Screaming, I put all my strength into pushing the knife down.

"Auntie! What horses! You're not on the road!"

Warm blood flooded over me. I gasped as it soaked my cloth, my skin, everything. I pulled the knife back up, hitting his breastbone, wanting to cut him to ribbons. The man's body shook as he died. His weight fell on me, his intestines sliding out and past my sides. His head fell on my shoulder.

He was dead. I'd done it. I won.

Tears stung my eyes. I made it. I lived. They were all dead. I would see my children again. I was safe.

"Auntie! Auntie!"

"In the forest! I'm safe!" I closed my eyes, allowing me to feel everything. The adrenaline overwhelmed me. I shed a few tears before I even tried to move the man away from me.

I pushed the man up, but he was still on his knees. Blood gushed down his neck, then his face, warming my chest and arms as I threw him off me. I'd cool off in no time, but for now...

Oh, that feeling... Blood-soaked. I loved it. I bit my lip as I rolled away, appreciating the guts I had to push off me. The blood soaked my pants as I leaned up, a shiver dancing across my back. The body at my feet was dead, by my doing. Slicing him open had been such a thrill, so much better than pointing an arrow and releasing it. This was life slipping away while I held it in my hand.

"Auntie!" His tone changed, he was close. A few seconds later he fell to his knees, in front of me. Hvitserk had found me. He took me in, his face shocked and relieved at the same time. "What happened?"

"I killed them." I put my hand on my side, feeling it hurt again. "Why are you here? I told you to stay back."

"We saw that rider coming our way, but he was already dead. We were worried." His hand found the wound.

I refused to look at it, even now. I'd been careless. Part of me hoped it would leave a scar. That way I'd never forget how stupid I'd been here. "You disobeyed orders."

His fingers brushed over the wound again and again. "I came to save you. Come on, we have to get some light on this. I can't see how bad it is with all the blood."

"It was a crossbow. But it only grazed me."

He sighed, trying one last time to feel around the wound. He looked sweaty, but otherwise, he was fine. Only a smear of blood on his vest showed he'd encountered at least one coward.

"You were too slow getting here. I had to kill him, myself."

He snarled, then took a deep breath. "Let me take care of you. The battle is mostly done, anyway." Hvitserk put one arm underneath my knees, the other supporting my back as he carried me off.

I didn't have the strength to object. He lived, that's what mattered. It had all been worth it. He lived; I heard his heart beating. We could fight about Halfdan tomorrow, for all the days to come for all I cared.

"Does it hurt?"

I couldn't feel a thing with the adrenaline still in high gear. "I don't know. Maybe."

"This is not the time to put on a brave face, auntie. I want someone to look at it, we have to get you back to camp."

I grasped at his shirt, the other hand keeping pressure on my wound. "I think I can stand up for a bit. It'll be faster if I can ride myself, right?"

His chest rose, then slowly fell. When we reached the horses, he carefully put me down.

I had to lean against Phoebe to keep from falling over. "My legs are pasta, but I feel okay."

"Hmm."

"My bow should be somewhere that way. Could you get it? I'll grab my cloak, then we can go." I put my hand on his chest, my fingers wanting to dig into his shirt. I needed comfort most of all, I needed to feel someone close to know I was still alive. "But first..." My lip shook.

He pulled me close, placing a hand in my neck. I could still feel where the Saxon had pushed on my throat. I swallowed, hard.

"I was so scared they would ride on and find you. I only meant to take down a few, and then -"

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe, now. I'll yell at you over this tomorrow, but for now, we should get going." Hvitserk sighed as he brushed over my side again. It felt better already, just from having him here. He pressed his lips against my forehead, then went off in search of my bow.

I grabbed Phoebe's reins, who was chomping away at some grass. The lazy bastard hadn't lifted a hoof to help me out. A few feet away was my cloak, on the ground. I shuffled over, careful not to inflame the wound even further. I sank to my knees, then grunted as I slowly got up again. As I stood, I took a deep breath, pushing my hand against the wound. Overexertion made it worse, and I still had to ride back to camp.

Fastening the cloak around me, I glanced at the road. The chest still hung in between the horses, who had walked towards the forest line. They'd deserved a rest after the hard traveling, no doubt. And I still had the key around my neck. Now everyone was dead I could risk a glance.

The horses didn't even look up when I came in between them. The chest beckoned me to come closer. Hvitserk kicked around in the grass a little ways off. Otherwise, it was silent. The lock clicked as I turned the key. The lid was heavy.

I must have had something in my eye. The light of the moon was too faint. This couldn't be. If this was a chest filled with gold and silver as I thought it was...

Holy fuck. I'd robbed a money transport. Weren't we around Nottingham here? Did I just become Robin Hood?

I laughed so loud Hvitserk came to check on me, but I couldn't say a thing. I locked the chest before he saw, instead gesturing for the horses to come along with us. Clutching my side, I tried to calm Hvitserk.

"Auntie? You're scaring me."

"Oh, don't... Don't, I just..." I laughed again. The image of a fox archer and a bear with a hat were too much.

A horse and rattling chariot approached. I took a few deep breaths, giggling in between as I tried to pull my face straight.

"Looks like she's doing fine," Ivar said as he pulled up. His face was covered in grime and dirt, a few drops of blood, but he didn't look worse for wear.

I forced myself to calm down, taking a few deep breaths. My side finally hurt again. The laughter must've gotten rid of the adrenaline. We had to get back to the camp. I needed to clean up and find a quiet place to think. Sigurd would know what to say to help me make sense of it all.

Hvitserk got to work and tied all the horses in a long row so they would all come back to the camp with us. I walked back to Phoebe and slowly got up. She'd have to contend with carrying my full weight on her back.

Ivar's eyes took in the scene as he turned his chariot around. "What happened here? Your arms are all bloody."

I had no desire to relive it right away. "I hit a snag, that's all."

"There are at least fifteen horses out there. Where are the riders?"

"It was a big snag. I need a moment to breathe, I'll tell you later."

Unsatisfied, Ivar grunted, then threw another look back. His head jerked back as he must've caught sight of the chest dangling in between two of the horses. I kept my mouth shut.


	38. Bloodless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

When we rode past the Saxon camp, the victory astounded me. Not a single voice cried out in pain or distress. The field was mostly empty; only a few small fires still burned. I didn't feel the need to stick around. Most men were already on their way back, a few carrying a weapon in each hand. A few wore matching helmets. Most of them were cheerful, talking about the huge fire and screams they'd heard.

Hvitserk guided his horse closer to Phoebe. "Do you think there's someone here who can take care of your wound?" The worry in his voice reminded me I'd done this all for him. It was mutual. We cared about each other; I had no business lying to him.

I shook my head. "It's not bleeding anymore. We're better off going back." I'd have offered some of the men the comfort of a horse to ride back on, but I didn't want to stop for too long. The warriors already stared at us and the caravan of horses that trailed behind us.

Phoebe's slow gait almost lulled me to sleep. I had to take a few deep breaths whenever I almost drifted off, knowing I had to get back. The blood loss made me fuzzy, but now I wasn't losing any more, it was just the fatigue that got to me. Every time I shifted around in the saddle and no blood ran down my skin, I counted it as a blessing. It couldn't be much farther now. The trail of men thickened as we slowly overtook them.

I had to look strong and imposing. Knowing I was hurt would cause rumors. It meant Bjorn was vulnerable and with him, so were the boys. Harald would want to take advantage of that. And where would Halfdan stand?

As soon as the camp was in sight, Ivar rushed on ahead, almost riding over our own men. I didn't care. The fewer eyes were on me, the better. Hvitserk and I reached the gate, two of Bjorn's people walking up to meet us. They grabbed hold of the reins and waited for us to get off.

I slung my leg over Phoebe's back, grunting at the pull on my skin. Did it bleed again? Slowly, I let myself sink to the ground. One foot on soil, the other in the stirrups, Phoebe took a step forward.

Hvitserk had to support me to keep me on my feet. "That bad?"

My fingers found the wound. It hadn't started bleeding again. I'd be fine. "Lost a lot of blood, is all. I'm just a bit dizzy. I'll be fine, Hvitserk. I promise. The wound closed already. Right now, I just want to sleep."

"It's been a long day for you," he admitted. He turned to the men that checked out our horses. "You two, that chest needs to be in Bjorn's tent in five minutes." He could sound commanding when it suited him. He only had to develop a better sense of when it was needed.

"Hmm?" I looked up, hooking my arm in his.

"Bjorn likes to hear how everything went before he starts drinking after a battle. It won't be long; I imagine the others are already there." He guided me back to the other end of camp, walking slowly to suit my tempo. Most of the camp was brooding in silence, while Harald's part boomed with howling laughter and shouting. Our own men were clearly celebrating, too.

When we were halfway there, the chest got carried past us. It took four strong men and women to carry it. They had to give it their all to keep from dropping the thing.

"What's in there, anyway?" Hvitserk asked.

I took a firmer grasp of his arm, the warmth of happiness coursing through my veins. "A surprise."

He looked down to see my face. "Alright, alright. Keep your secret, then. But this had better be good."

I rested my forehead to his arm for a second, then our paces didn't line up anymore. I loved his childlike enthusiasm now it wouldn't get me killed.

"I still want to get that wound checked out, I'm not taking any chances." His nagging and worrying over me dying were justified. Back home I hadn't known the fear and panic that came from almost dying. It had been too long since I'd truly felt it. I had no business fighting off multiple men when all I could defend myself with was a bow.

I couldn't admit that out loud yet. "I just need to catch up on my sleep. Though I wouldn't turn down a drink, either." My mouth felt dry as the Sahara desert. I pulled Hvitserk's arm tight, reveling in the warmth that came from his body.

My cloak took off the worst of the chill, but I'd forgotten to put my shirt back on. Now the blood had dried, it was cold. Not that it mattered. I was safe, I'd survived. So had my boys.

He put a finger to my wrist. "Your heart seems more than fine. Are you still feeling the rush of battle?"

I put a hand on my chest. He was right, my heart was racing. "I'm not sure."

Inside Bjorn's tent, the table was already full. Helga and Tanaruz had joined us. Only Ivar was absent as Hvitserk and I joined in. Bjorn caught sight of us, first. The smile ran away from his face, then Sigurd stared as well. He poked an elbow at Ubbe, and soon the whole tent fell silent.

They all stared at me. I could take it from strangers, but not my family and friends. And Harald.

"What in the name of Thor's beard happened to you?" Harald asked. His eyes slid over my chest, then caught my side. "Did you sacrifice that one coward that came your way?"

I put my hands on the table and slowly sank to my chair. My sight got blurry. "Might as well have."

Sigurd passed me a mug. I chugged it down, half of it pouring down my chin. The thirst lingered.

"It's impolite to keep us waiting," Ubbe said. His eyes flitted to the wooden chest. "What's in there? Gold?"

"She's got the key," Hvitserk said. "When she saw it, she started laughing as if she were insane."

My fingers shook as I took the key from my neck. "Nearly cost me my life." Hvitserk made to grasp the key from my hand, but I held it in my fist. "Which is why I claim 90 percent for myself. This was all me." It would buy me a new house, at the beach, and I'd still have enough money left to not worry about surviving for years. I could buy the children new weapons. Thormund was up for his arm ring, that deserved a nice new weapon. Siggy would get one for that occasion, too.

"Fifty," Bjorn countered. "The rest is divided as I see fit."

My fist almost shook. Damn exhaustion. I had to stay focused, just a bit longer. Then I could sleep. "Ninety-five." I put the key on the table, my palm over it.

He smirked, shaking his head as if I were ignorant. "That's not how this works."

"It does now." I kept my eyes steady as I could. His visage wasn't as sharp as normal. Was the lighting weird? Or was this the fatigue?

"What, you want to fight me for it if I refuse?" Bjorn taunted.

"Try me. You wouldn't be the first to die over that thing." I lowered my head, keeping my eyes on his.

"She's not kidding, Bjorn," Hvitserk intervened. "She killed sixteen soldiers over that thing."

"Sixteen?" The surprise in his voice was music to my ears.

My hands wouldn't stop shaking. I kept them flat on the table. "Personal guards to king Aelle," I boasted.

"Why would they travel at night?" He glanced back at the chest, then raised an eyebrow as he took me in anew. "Let me see that wound."

My sight blurred again. I could hardly open my eyes again. My eyelids fluttered. "I'll be fine." I blinked hard and regained my sight. I was too tired for this shit. "Ninety-five, or I take it all."

"Ragnhild. Let me see that wound, I'm not asking."

I didn't want him near me. He didn't get to touch me anymore, not after what he'd done to me. "I told you, I'm fine! You can't tell me what to do!"

Bjorn turned to Hvitserk. "What happened out there?" Hvitserk glanced at me as he whispered in his brother's ear.

I couldn't make out what they whispered about.

Sigurd brushed a hand over my face. He smelled like blood and sweat. "Auntie?"

I tried to raise my head up but it was too heavy.

"Somebody get this woman a drink, she's got a great story to share." Halfdan tried to lift up my arm but I jerked it back. "Sixteen men, by yourself? Gods, I should've gone with you."

Harald's laugh filled the tent. "I only got to six! How did she get sixteen!"

"Never a dull day, eh?" Halfdan slapped his hand against my back.

I banged a shoulder on the table as I fell, barely catching myself on a knee. The cheerfulness vanished.

"Auntie, come on. What's wrong? Are you drunk?" Sigurd's soft voice thundered in my ears.

I couldn't get up. I hardly kept myself from falling to the ground. My arms were weak.

"Sigurd. Move aside. I need to see that wound." Floki's voice told me everything would be fine. He helped me sit down. He'd take care of me.

Hvitserk's voice rang out over the table. "She got a scrape from a crossbow bolt. She said she was fine, she didn't bleed. She just felt tired."

"Tired?" Floki lifted up my chin. I couldn't look him in the eye. Of course, I was tired this far into the pregnancy. He looked away again. "Helga!"

Sigurd grabbed hold of my hand. His fingers were scorching hot. "What's going on? She was fine just a minute ago, she walked in here. Floki, what's going on?"

I tried to swat at Sigurd. He was too young to see all this happen. I bit my tongue to keep from shouting out loud. He couldn't hear me curse like this.

The sound of a knife being drawn caught in my ear, then I gasped. I felt a sharp pain in my side. Blood soaked my leg anew. Floki dragged me off so I could lay down.

"Bjorn. Is that fire hot enough?" Was that Floki? He didn't make any sense.

"H - Helga..." There was too much blood between my legs. I'd tried to fight them before. I'd tried to get away. They couldn't kill my child. I wouldn't let them.

Helga was by my side in a second. "I'm here. Don't worry. We're going to take care of you, you hear me?"

"No... Not... I need a knife." My breathing grew heavy. "Please, there's this thing..." I'd sooner cut the child out of me myself.

"Floki will do it. We have a knife warming up already. He'll close the wound, and then you'll be fine."

Someone pushed on my side. I couldn't see straight. Helga was a blur. "No, please. He - don't let them... I c - I can save him. Please, Helga. I need a knife. He can live, but I need a knife."

Her eyes widened. She turned away, a blond wave crashing across my sight. "She's hallucinating. We have to hurry."

"I need... I'll cut him out." I got up to one elbow, then I couldn't go on.

Her fingers curled around my cheeks, digging into my hair as her face filled up my sight. "Ragnhild, listen to me. You're in England. You got shot." She didn't understand. Aslaug would find me. Kol would die.

"I can save him. Don't let her near me. Helga, she'll kill him, please." I fell back on the hard floor, my eyes burning. They couldn't hurt my child. I'd kill them. I'd kill them all.

"Why is she so scared? Helga?"

"Shh!" Her hand brushed my forehead. Why wasn't she keeping Aslaug away?

"Helga, please," I sobbed. "Don't let Aslaug near, please. Let him live. Choose him over me, I don't care what happens to me."

"What's happening?" Wait, was Bjorn here? "Helga, I need her to live. She's got the twins to look after, and Freydis. What is she talking about?"

He'd gone off to Paris, of course, he wasn't here. He was off fighting Rollo while I was fighting for my life. I was stuck here with Aslaug. She crept towards me, her face a blur but I recognized her all the same.

"No! You can't force me to let him die! Helga, send her away! I don't want her near me!" I pulled her close, burying my face in her dress. "I saved her son! How can she do this to me!"

"You're safe, I swear. Ragnhild, please. You've moved past this. It's not like it was back then. Aslaug is dead."

Dead... Aslaug? No, but… Her face, she was right there. Blond, and tall, and ready to kill my baby. "Fuck off! I told you not to be here! I get to decide, not you!"

"Hold her still, damnit!" Floki shouted. How could he be here? What was that warmth near my belly?

Was she trying to burn out my child? How - how could she? No... Kol, no! No! "No! Stay away, you can't kill him!"

Helga leaned over my face as I thrashed around. The arms wouldn't hold me down again. "Calm down, please. You need to rest. It's okay, we've got you. Nothing will happen to your child, you hear me? I made a promise to keep it safe."

A drop fell on my forehead. I couldn't see who hung above me. Was it raining? Were the gods here? Freyja would never let my child be hurt. "Where is Bjorn? He said he'd always protect me."

Another cramp hit. I gritted my teeth, forgetting how to breathe through it. The pain lingered too long. I cried out, my body writhing in agony.

"I said, keep her down!" Floki yelled.

"Auntie," Sigurd whispered. "Please, you have to calm down."

"Shhu... Jus need some air. Aslaug. Shhu..." Where had he come from? I hadn't heard him come close, at all.

Socks. He wore socks. I couldn't let him carry this burden. I couldn't ask him to keep quiet or lie for me. This boy, this beautiful boy. "Sigurd..." He'd gone through so much, and now his socks betrayed me. I'd made those. "Socks... Hngh... Your mother, no..." He'd betray me if he called out to her. I had to get out of the hall.

His face loomed at the edge of my sight. "Auntie, no. Stay with me. Keep your eyes open, damnit! Ragnhild! Helga, she's dying!"

I closed my eyes. They'd drag me back. They'd force me to give up my child.

"Shut up!" Helga shrieked. "Shut up everyone, shut up!"

"Everyone out," Bjorn said. His voice was hard, and cold, and full of worry for me. He'd made it back, in time. The dark shadows around me vanished, lingering on the edge of the tent instead.

"She's losing too much blood. I need a knife. Now."

"It's almost hot enough," Bjorn said.

I reached out a hand, seeing only a blurred version of him. "You made it," I sobbed. "I'm so scared."

He hesitated, but then joined by my side. He sat by my side, holding my hand. My fingers shook. I braced for the next contraction.

"I love you so much," I breathed. "Aslaug, she - she wants to kill him. You have to stop her."

"Shh, it's okay. I'm here." His fingers brushed over my face. Cold sweat clammed up my skin.

"She wants to trade him. You have to stop her, she'll kill our son to save hers."

He leaned in closer. "Ragnhild, focus. You can't talk about these things out loud."

"I'd rather die than lose our son. Please, I can't live without our boy. You can't let her kill our son."

Bjorn wiped away the tears on my face. "I won't let you die in my arms. You hear me?"

I clung to his arm, desperate to feel him even closer. He'd protect me, always. He'd never let me down, never had before. "The lawmaker, he means to -"

"Shh, it's okay. I know. They're both safe. Right now, I need you to focus on yourself, okay? You need to be strong for you. Can you do that?"

With him by my side, I could conquer the world. I nodded, fighting back against a sob.

He wiped off the worst of the sweat on my brow. "You're too strong to die from a wound like that."

A wound? I was giving birth, what was he talking about?

Someone touched my thigh.

"No!" I swung my hands around. "My baby! Don't kill him!"

Vinh sat down between my legs. The light reflected off a blade hit my eyes. "It won't take long. Relax, I know what I'm doing."

I kicked at her. My arms were held back again. "Don't you dare touch me! I'll kill you!" Someone pushed down my legs. I screamed, tried to wring out of their grasp, but I couldn't get free.

"Keep her down, damnit!" Floki shouted. Where had Vinh gone? Why did Bjorn hold me down?

The blade in Floki's hands shone a bright orange. The wound, he'd sear it off. He'd kill my baby. He'd stick his knife in too deep, not caring about my uterus, not at my age. He cared about my life, he thought I was barren. He didn't know I'd never even tried again after Freydis.

"No! My baby, let go of me! You'll kill it!" I shouted, screamed with all of my might. Floki would kill my baby. It would die inside of me, again, while I was pinned down on the ground.

"Shh, you'll be fine," Helga said. "This isn't like before." She brushed a hand over my face while my child could die at any moment.

"Helga, no. Please... You have... Have to..." She thought I lost my mind. What could I possibly say to get her to believe me, now? Her kohl was smudged. I'd need to get through to her, through both our fears. I could barely think straight.

Crying, her head sank down on my chest, her voice scraping by. "It's not like back then, Ragnhild. Floki needs to cauterize the wound, or you'll bleed out."

"No, you don't... Helga... Baby..." I had to let them know. They'd do it more carefully. I didn't care if anyone found out. None of it would matter if I lost the child. I braced myself, taking a deep breath.

I had to focus before I slipped off into the nightmare again. I jerked my hips around, annoying Floki as he tried to get me down. I had to stall. "Eleven weeks," I whispered in her curls.

She knew what had happened back then. A wash of blond hair swirled in front of me. Within the darkness of her eyes was a bright blue, searching for me.

"Here's the knife." Ragnar? What was he doing here? He looked younger than I'd ever seen him. But his voice was different.

"No!" Helga shouted. Her head jerked away, "Give me that, now! It has to be me." The sea of curls disappeared.

"This is not the time to argue about these things," Floki hissed. Two new dark pits swirled across my sight. "You have to keep still, or you will die. It's time for you to listen to me for once."

I whimpered. This wasn't like before. If I moved, I'd kill my own baby.

Stronger hands than before kept me down. They would keep both of us safe. Helga would save my child. I knew she would. She'd promised.

The knife touched my flesh. I screamed so loud, it hurt my own ears. My lungs felt close to bursting.

"I don't expect you to understand. But she made me promise. I'd never let anything happen to her child. She only trusts me when it comes to giving birth."

"That doesn't make sense," Floki spat.

"You weren't there! Back then she was covered in blood, as well! I promised her no one would hurt her child, and then Aslaug showed up!"

The heat disappeared. My chest spasmed as I gasped for air.

Young Ragnar sat down on his haunches. He brushed my hair aside for me. "She was never the same after our first raid. I never heard the full story."

"Ragnar," I whispered, staring up at his eyes. I squeezed in the hand that held onto mine. Their fingers kept touching my wedding ring. Bjorn used to do that; he'd picked up the habit from me.

"She's still bleeding. I need to go deeper."

Ragnar jumped up. He rushed towards the fire and got another orange blade from it. "Here's another." He returned to my side.

Deeper? Why would Helga need to -

Lightning struck my side. The pain shot deeper, piercing beyond what already hurt. I screamed again, watching how smoke and an acrid smell rose up from my side.

"It took six women to hold her down. She wanted to run off to the woods but then it started. She knew she'd lose her child, and then because of me, she did. I convinced her to stay and let me help her. I'll never let her down like that again."

Floki's voice sounded close. "She would've died. You know that. We talked about this before. Helga, my love. She forgave you a long time ago."

"I'm the only one left who was there, Floki. They all died. The gods will come for me, now that Vinh is dead."

Vinh was dead? My revenge... Ari, he'd been involved? I hadn't seen him in years. It didn't make sense.

"Sigurd was there too," Ragnar said. "He saw her trying to get away."

"Enough." The voice sounded distant but demanding. "She needs to rest. Get her to her tent, get that wound dressed. Hvitserk. You stay here."

Hvitserk? No, he was off to Paris, too. But Ragnar was here, and - was that Bjorn?

The pain turned dull, whining but not screaming. My baby still lived.

A flurry of fingers moved over my burning flesh, lifted me up, fussed over my hair. I'd survived. I'd given it my all to keep my child safe. It was still in my womb. My fingers lingered on the skin. Kol could grow a bit longer, he just needed a little more time. I knew it. Everything had turned out fine now Bjorn was here.

Floki carried me off. He turned around at the entrance to the tent. Helga was on the other side, her blond curls still a whirl as she cried over a girl with copper skin. They all but ran out before us, Helga's cheeks covered in grey, washed-out kohl.

The tent gave way to a cloudless, starry night. The gods had kept me safe. How else could I have survived?

In the tent behind us, Bjorn started shouting. ".. irresponsible! What if she'd died!"

"She promised me she felt fine!"

"Just ignore them, auntie," Sigurd said. He put his hand on my face. He was close. He'd protect me, too. I'd never make him socks, again. Today had been a close call. "This isn't the first time Hvitserk fucked up. Remember that orange incident he told us about? Back in Algeciras?"

"You made mistakes too," Floki grunted. "Didn't your auntie teach you? When you start shouting, no one listens. You did nothing to help. You got in the way."

"I didn't even know what was happening," Sigurd snapped.

"Neither did we, and you started shouting at the one person who did. Your auntie was reliving the birth of her stillborn son, and now Helga is worried about dying soon." He spat over me, his face a grimace of anger and worry.

"I was there too. I remember auntie trying to get away. If Helga is to die soon, so am I. I stopped her from getting away, I kept her from saving her child."

I wanted to touch his face. Sigurd wouldn't die, not if I had anything to say about it. Neither would Helga. I was the one who almost died today, out in a forest.

"Pfah. If you believe that, you are dumber than I thought. What if she'd cut herself open? She would've bled out. She told me about that procedure. If she'd tried it on herself, she would've bled out before she'd gotten to the child. You saved her that day, Sigurd. She couldn't live with the thought of having you carry all that guilt around. She stopped because of you, and that saved her life."

Had Hvitserk survived? That coward had gotten away. He had to be safe. "Hvitserk," I whispered.

"Bjorn won't kill him. He's just mad for letting you walk around with that injury that long."

I relaxed in Floki's arms. I remembered. The last one had wanted to strangle me. "The riders." I scraped my throat. "They went for the camp."

"So, you killed them all? Sixteen of them?"

Sigurd sighed. "They would've run him over. Auntie... For what it's worth, I'm happy you're still the same. I'm sorry about before. I should've trusted you."

"I'm sorry, too." My lip shook, cheeks pulling on my face as my brow fluttered, but I couldn't cry. My body was too tired.

"I'll dress her wound and make sure she sleeps through the night," Floki said. "You get some rest. Tomorrow will be hard on all of us."

Sigurd's face came up to mine. "Never scare me like that again," he said. His lips gently touched my cheek. "I'll come by tomorrow."

Floki put me down on my feet, then helped me to my knees when that proved too difficult. The skin on my belly burned and ached, especially when I moved. He helped me inside my own tent, laying me down on the bed. He got a poultice out of his own tent. Outside I could hear him arguing with Helga, but it was too faint to make it out.

He gently rubbed the poultice over my wound. "You'll need to stay on your back tonight, though I doubt you'll move much without waking up."

I nodded, ignoring the burning in my eyes. "I'm sorry. It wasn't Hvitserk's fault, he kept asking about the wound." My voice was barely more than a whisper.

"I will tell Bjorn," Floki said as he bandaged the wound. His face lingered halfway between anger and frustration, but I couldn't tell at who it was directed. He even put my bed furs over me, then got me something to rest my head on.

What had I done to deserve a friend like him? "Thank you."

"I've kept you safe for years. I won't falter now. Rest up. The gods want you with us for years to come. Now close your eyes. Sleep will come." He took in my face, frowned, then tapped my forehead with his fingers. His frown turned into a smirk. "The gods are with you, Ragnhild Freyjasdottir."

A tiny smile came to my face as I closed my eyes. I was so tired it didn't take long for sleep to take me.


	39. Valkyrie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

A wet cloth to my face woke me up. My eyelids fluttered as I tried to open them. The sun made it through the most threadbare skins hanging above me. A tent. Someone else was with me. My side hurt. The cloth swirled over my face. My hand barely lifted off the furs.

"Shh, it's okay. You're safe. The baby is fine. You didn't bleed."

I blinked a few times. Curly, blond hair swished around. Helga. My fingers brushed over the soft hairs underneath me. Furs. I was in bed.

"You're alive. I don't know how, but you survived."

My throat was dry. I smacked my lips, wisps of dried up saliva clutching at the corners of my lips. "How long?" My voice croaked. Helga handed me a skin, helping me take a sip. The water slid down my throat. Swallowing hurt. I took a few more sips, feeling stronger the more I drank.

"It's a little past noon. I would've been worried, but you snored rather loudly."

She was certain my child was fine. I brushed over my stomach. The bandage kept me from touching my skin. The wound ached, but the pain had dulled. "I don't snore."

Helga chuckled, cleaning the blood off my face. "Like a bear in winter. You look better rested than I've seen you in moons."

"Probably because I slep -" I let out a terrible yawn. I moved too much, the skin on my side flaring up. My face pulled into a grimace. "Slept for more than six hours. You know how I get, when..." I'd shouted about my baby last night. Did they all know? I turned my head to the side of my tent. Bjorn would kill me for getting injured like this. The boys would lose their minds when they heard. Ivar wouldn't care. Maybe smirk at the desperation that screamed from my every pore.

"When you're with child?" Helga whispered. She continued to clean the side of my face she could see.

"I was going to say, when I get stressed over nothing." I had to ask, but I couldn't say the words. I'd shouted about Kol, but Floki had been there? I'd been certain... It hadn't been a dream?

"Is that why you didn't tell me?"

"I knew you wouldn't approve. I'm not proud of it, either. I know it's a fool's hope."

Helga sighed. Water trickled down in a bowl, then a fresh cloth found my neck. "I know you still love him. It's his, that much I know. I still know you. Is it truly worth the risks you've been taking?"

I closed my eyes. I'd wanted to talk about it for so long, but Helga had been occupied with Tanaruz ever since they came back from the Mediterranean. I hadn't even considered talking to her. The girl wasn't here, though. I didn't have to worry about being interrupted.

Helga cleaned the other side of my face as I turned around. She worried over me, as I knew she would. Would she judge me? I hesitated, then sighed. "All I wanted was a spark. We had sex when I came back from that camp."

She leaned back, frowning. "Oh, you didn't... Oh, Ragnhild, why do you do this to yourself?"

I choked up. "Because he... I wanted - I had to know for sure. I still want us to be together, all of us. If he hears about the baby he might give it a try for the sake of the child, but I want him to want it all." I pressed my eyes shut. My chest heaved, but I forced the sobs to stay in.

Helga sighed again. The cloth kept going over the same spot on my neck. "Is this a bruise?"

"The last man tried to choke me."

Her swipes got less caring. "You put yourself and your child in danger for nothing. Bjorn won't come back to you. I've been telling you for years." The lines around her eyes deepened as she frowned again.

"You don't know that," I snapped.

"It's been three years. You agreed to divorce. A child won't change that."

"It changes everything!" She didn't understand. How could she, when I'd never told a soul? How could I, after all these years? No one knew why we'd fallen apart, not truly. I'd vowed to take it to my grave, but now this sprout was here...

Helga pulled at my shoulder. Her hair tickled my neck. "Is this why you didn't want to let him go?"

I wanted to put up a brave face but failed. I raised up an arm, desperately clinging to her. "I couldn't. I never told a soul, but it's all my fault. The reason he left. I told myself it was because of Freydis, and how I acted when I was pregnant with her. I couldn't put anyone through that again, but - I tried to tell Bjorn, but he wouldn't listen. I let it go too far, and look at me now."

I crumbled in her embrace. The lies, all the tears I'd cried. It was too much for one person to keep in. My demons were eager to come out and play. They tried to convince me I was worthless. They told me no one would miss me if I had died. A new one wanted me to kill Bjorn for the hurt he'd caused me. It battled against the demon that kicked me for almost losing the love of my life. All they managed to do was cut up my heart.

Helga leaned up, her hand finding mine instead. She brushed over my hair, her eyes solemn as if she knew my hurt. "You have to tell someone. What if you stop feeling again? Floki would kill you."

"I know," I sobbed. "I can't deal with it anymore, not by myself. I need help." After all the crying I'd done after Kol's death, then helping her through her sorrow when Angrboda had died... If anyone could help me through this, it was her.

"I'm here for you, always." The sincerity in her eyes calmed me down.

I'd tell her. I took a ragged breath. “After Freydis was born, Bjorn wanted to -”

"Hey!" Floki came in, obnoxiously cheerful. His eyes trained on me. "Well, look who's ready to shout in my ear again. How are you feeling?"

He'd picked the worst possible time to interrupt. I couldn't hide the scowl on my face. Neither could he.

Helga let go of me. "Floki? Who's minding Tanaruz?" Already her voice went up an octave.

He rolled his eyes. "The girl is fine. She hasn't moved in three days, I doubt she'll start now."

Helga let go of my hand and shoved at Floki's side. "How could you be so careless," she whimpered. Helga rushed out of the tent, her whispers and sad prattling fading as she left the tent.

Floki laid his hand on my stomach. His face was cold, angry. "It seems both our lives are changed because of a child."

"She told you." If he knew, chances were that Bjorn knew. I couldn’t ask about it as long as he was angry over Helga.

"She had to. The way she demanded to hold a blade to your wound, you know how we work. I'll listen to her, always, but she'd better have a good explanation when she keeps me from saving a life. You made her fear things I thought she was past."

I gritted my teeth. "I only remember flashes from last night. Hvitserk helped me to Bjorn's tent. I thought I was giving birth. You carried me here. If you want to be mad at me, at least tell me what I did to deserve it." This was not because I'd almost died. Only Helga could get him this riled up. Ragnar had been a close second.

"Helga thinks the gods will punish her, for disobeying your wishes back then. Everyone else who was involved died. Tell me, is that a coincidence? You had no trouble killing anyone here. That means you killed before. And plenty at that." His eyes burned with a fire he normally reserved for Christians.

I tried to scrape my throat. He looked at my throat, then handed me the skin. I gulped half the skin down in one go. "Helga has nothing to worry about. Me being with child is a sign from the gods. I was meant to be here. Ragnar told me to come, Lagertha knows as well." And now two others knew. This wasn't going to be a secret much longer. Floki wasn't exactly known for keeping his mouth shut.

"So you say. But the gods might have other plans. Her fear comes from a real place." Floki removed the furs and prodded at the bandage with a knife, tearing at the wounds. I fought my instincts to push him off. He lifted it up and wiped at it with the cloth Helga had used for my face. He cleaned off the blood, delicate as if he washed a baby. His eyes flitted to mine. "Helga told me more than just gossip."

I frowned. "What did she say?" My baby wasn't gossip. What else had gone on in that tent? Ragnar, he - had he been there? I remembered his face. And Aslaug, the blond woman standing in a corner. She'd been there, too.

"She had to use a blade twice before you stopped bleeding. People rarely survive it when they bleed so much they need it a second time. And now you're here, talking, crying, waking up a few hours later. How can that be?"

"Floki, you're not making any sense." Just what was going on in that mind of his? Was he still angry at me? Then why did he look so surprised?

"You think with your mind too much. Helga said the wound looked like it had healed, then got torn open again. Like a woman giving birth after a few times. How does that happen, I wonder? How do you get shot, and then heal up? Then you tear it open again because you are an idiot, and it heals up again? But then you still bleed out?"

What was he going on about? Was he close to cracking again? That girl had to go. Maybe we could send her off to Rollo, he could send her further south. "She must be mistaken. That's impossible."

"Oh, yes. You'll blame the light, and the panic. The blood made it all hard to see. But you forget, Helga has seen many wounds, and many were bloody and in bad lighting. She knows what she saw, and I believe her. It is you who doesn't make sense, Ragnhild. And it's you whom the gods favor."

I searched his face. Whatever was going on with him, I felt uneasy because of it. He'd been erratic before when it came to Helga. "Is this supposed to make me feel better?"

"You had trouble believing you were the Vessel of Freyja. You'll have trouble believing this, as well."

I breathed in deep, the wound hurting as I looked away. I couldn't handle Floki and his weirdness today. What was he even insinuating? That I healed because of the gods?

"You don't believe me. Maybe you'll believe your own body." He sat back, leaving my wound open to the air.

It looked hideous. The skin was red and angry. Some parts still looked molten, while others were scabbed over, or left raw where Floki had pulled it off with the bandage. My skin showed a red silhouette of the knife where Helga had laid it on top to close off the surface wounds. In the middle was a stab wound, where Helga had gone in deep. The sight made me nauseous.

"It looks beautiful," Floki sighed. "I never thought it would heal this well. Helga outdid herself."

Bjorn had one of those wounds on his shoulder, from his winter in the Interior. It was a surface wound, but he'd been afraid it would get infected. I'd thought it was sexy. How could I have been that stupid?

"I need to be alone for a bit." I looked at the side of the tent again. An uncomfortable feeling crept through my skin, urging me to steer clear from Floki. Last time this had happened, he'd told me off for pushing down all my emotions. I'd physically attacked him as a result, because he wouldn't shut up. When I'd snapped out of it, he'd made me promise never to let it get that far again. It was a clear boundary I did not want to cross.

"Don't be ridiculous. You need to get that blood off of you." Water trickled down again.

"Either leave me alone or you're stuck here consoling me for the next two hours." I faked a ragged breath.

Floki dropped the cloth, water splattering from the bowl as he muttered something under his breath. But even with him gone, I still felt irritated. I had to do something, anything. The skin on my stomach wasn't mine. It couldn't be. My skin was perfect, always had been. I was famed for it. I didn't have scars, not even after the horrifying birth I'd gone through. They had all faded.

I had to get out of this tent, and these clothes, and away from that scar. Breathing hard, I threw the furs off. The leather pants stuck to my legs, tearing at my skin as I moved. The cloth around my chest had hardened because of the blood. I'd need to get changed, but I needed the blood to come off, first. I'd almost died in these clothes. And I'd gotten a scar that would never let me forget how dumb I'd been.

The stream. I could wash up there, without anyone close to haunt me about my secrets, without judgment of what I'd done and why. I got up, grunting at the strain it put on my burned flesh, then grabbed a towel and a dress before I got out.

My pants tore at the last few spots of skin it clung to as I stood up. If Floki saw me, he'd be pissed. Helga would probably have half a heart attack. Neither was in sight.

I walked past their tent as fast as I could without aggravating the wound. I couldn't have anyone fussing over me with the whole army watching. The camp carried on as though nothing had happened. They either didn't know or didn't care about my injuries. Good. One less thing to worry about. Still, I kept the bundle of fabrics in front of the wound. I had no desire to let them know I was weak.

The men and women who caught sight of me stared, sharing whispers. They judged me, too. The only one to get injured during the battle. Some vessel of Freyja I was. I sped up my pace, straining the skin. After losing enough blood that I'd started to hallucinate, I shouldn't have been able to stand upright, let alone walk at a brisk pace.

At the edge of the camp, Ubbe talked to a shieldmaiden, his back turned to me. I hoped to make it past, but she caught sight of me. Her eyes widened.

Ubbe followed her stare. "Auntie?" The relief on his face hurt to see. I really had been close to death. He only slowly took a few steps in my direction, as if I’d disappear if he rushed at me.

I closed the distance between us. "Walk with me," I whispered.

Ubbe woke from his trance. He shot a confused glance backward. "I - We'll finish this later. Auntie, what are you doing up?"

I didn't wait for him to catch up. "I wanted to get cleaned up by myself, but you'll never let me go alone. So, unless you mean to drag me back, you'll come with and make sure I don't drown."

"You should be resting." He tried to look at me, but I kept my eyes dead ahead.

"Floki said it looked well enough."

"You almost died." He tore at my heartstrings.

I couldn't do this here. I owed him so much more than an apology, but not in front of all these staring people. "But then I didn't. Just - I'll explain it all in a bit, but I really want to get away from all those stares." I stepped up my pace again, briskly strutting forward as the camp disappeared from sight. My face turned red from the exertion, my wound screaming at me to rest.

"How are you able to walk?" Ubbe asked.

"According to Floki, the gods are with me. You know that weird thing he does with tapping your forehead? He did it last night and for a change, he was happy about whatever he felt from it." We left the camp behind us. "But that's not what I wanted to talk to you about."

"You - what is it?"

"Remember how I said that Ragnar was full of shit because he knew he was about to die? Deathbed confessions and all?"

"Err, yeah. You were quite vocal about that." That was a polite way of phrasing it.

I'd all but cursed his name over all the damage he had done. "Turns out I was wrong. Almost dying makes you realize all kinds of things." We turned left, moving upstream again. It wasn't just the almost dying. It was battle, the adrenaline. Only the basest instincts and desires were left. It wasn't about that first kill as everyone thought.

"Auntie?"

"Margrethe. I can't tell you secrets when you'll share them with her. She can't keep them."

"You're supposed to come to your senses and agree with me," he muttered.

"I'll do that when pigs can fly. I know that you love her. And I know like no other that love will make you do stupid things. But you know that I love you, and that I want what's best for you."

Already he looked less than happy about me being up already. "But still you can't trust me?"

"I can't trust her. I need to know that when I tell you something in confidence, it remains in confidence. I kept things from Bjorn while we were still married, and -"

He jerked me back by my arm. "Look where that got you."

This wasn't a petty fight like before. He had to realize he was bringing us all in danger. "Ubbe. I want to trust you. I do. I need your help with plenty of things, as I always have. But some things are too dangerous to risk becoming known.”

"I won't have you use me again."

"I'm sorry about that. I was selfish and I didn't think you were ready. Ragnar returning affected me more than you'll ever know, but that doesn’t absolve me of the shame I feel over what happened. I made terrible mistakes, and I can only hope you’ll forgive me.” I couldn't keep the sorrow from my voice. I'd meant to keep Ubbe away from all of this, once upon a time. I'd sworn to be different than Siggy, than Ragnar.

We resumed walking again. The spot I went to last time wasn't that much farther.

Ubbe looked pensive. He caught my eye. "Bjorn. The range."

"Among other things," I said as I looked away. "I'm not at the top of my game, so I need to rely on you more than ever. But I don't know what will come of this raid. What Harald and Halfdan will do when it's over. If there is the slightest chance of Margrethe spilling anything, it could mean we lose Kattegat to them."

"You always make it sound like life and death," Ubbe sighed.

"That's because it is. Harald's princess is in the camp. She's married to a Danish earl. They have a child together."

Ubbe looked at me sideways but kept his mouth shut. I gave him a moment to try and think it over for himself. He needed to learn how to see the danger in that himself, without me chewing it out for him beforehand.

We'd reached the spot. I hung my towel over the tree branch, next to the dress. "You can sit behind there, maybe catch some sunlight. It's good for your health."

Ubbe moved behind the make-shift curtain. "I'm an adult, I know how to take care of myself."

He sounded just like he did when his rebellious streak had started, right after Ragnar had left. Things had been so simple back then, despite my hurt. "I'll never stop worrying about you, Ubbe. You know that. I love you too much not to."

He let out a sigh that could've been a groan. "Get going, I was in the middle of something."

Finally, I undressed. The cloth creaked, flakes of dried-up blood falling off as I unwound it. I could barely use my right arm. The cloth that whirled around my neck was too caked in blood and at too painful an angle for me to get it loose.

“Ubbe? I need your help.”

“I know. Harald -”

“With the cloth. I can't get it loose.”

He got up with a sigh. I kept the cloth close to my chest, letting Ubbe tear at the cloth that stuck. I turned around so he could keep on tearing. He stopped as he saw the wound.

“It looks impressive.”

“It's ugly,” I snapped. “It's a reminder to do better next time.” A few small blisters circled the wound. I couldn't resist. My fingers burned the wound at my touch, but I had to know what it was like. There was a dent. I had a dent. My skin had burned off, the flesh had molten away, and now I had a dent. It was still damp from when Floki had cleaned it.

It was hideous. The twins would kill me for coming back wounded. Part of me wanted to ignore it, but if this got infected, I'd die anyway. Helga's knives had struck true. She’d known what to do, but there was no way of knowing how this would turn out.

Ubbe pulled away my hand, cupping my face with the other. “Don't. You were up against sixteen men. Making it out with only one wound is more than most could have hoped for. You were right. I shouldn't have underestimated you.” Without being asked, he made sure the rest of the cloth would come loose without his help.

"Who was that woman?" If only Ubbe would fall in love with another woman. He couldn't do much worse than Margrethe. My children would never call her auntie, ever.

"Confidante to Graeme. He's pissed over being left out last night." Bjorn was careful to give out tasks to Ubbe, too. This was something to leave to those new to the table. Ubbe shouldn't have to deal with small earls, let alone their subordinates. Still, he took it in stride. He realized he'd have to work his way up again after Margrethe’s outburst at their wedding feast.

"More of them are, to be sure." I touched his arm in thanks. He disappeared behind the towel again.

Ubbe scoffed. Apparently, I'd missed a few things. "He threatened to take his men and leave. The next battle will have to be glorious."

I peeled off the pants, cursing whenever I hit a spot that hadn't come loose yet. As much as I wanted to hate the Saxons for this, it was probably a fair bit of my own blood, as well. Probably most of it was.

"Didn't you hear me? If Graeme is angry, that's just the start. For every man that steps forward, ten are disgruntled."

"I'm thinking." I let the pants drop next to the stream. I'd want to get it soaked in water before I'd try to put them on again. Dipping in a toe, I shivered. The sun was too clouded to give any real warmth. I stepped into the stream in one go. "We have to keep them loyal to our cause, but we can't risk losing too many lives, either. If we lose, we're in deep shit. All of us, not just Kattegat."

"Unless Harald manages to get them all over to his side and turn on us. There's one thing that might change all of their minds. I heard some -" Ubbe fell silent. He drew a knife. I could see him crouching behind the towel, a faint silhouette shining through the towel.

I perked my ears. Another conversation drew near, louder than ours. The sound came from down the stream.

These were Viking women; it wouldn't end up in a fight. I was glad to have Ubbe with me, but I wasn't worried. "No, wait. I'll try and hide. Stay hidden." I swam a little way off, to where the reeds would hide me.

"... no, hear me out! You saw her coming back last night, right?" Through the reed, I saw the enthusiastic one wore a splendid dark green dress, but her brown hair was done sloppily. This must've been her first raid.

The blond woman clad in red had taken the effort to have her hair braided like a queen. "Your point being?"

"Her arms were drenched in blood. She was on a horse."

"That happens all the time, you know that." The blond woman sounded annoyed.

"Didn't you hear that blood curling scream last night? And then just now she walked around as if nothing happened. She was still covered in blood."

They weren't sisters, but both were highborn. The blonde one was posh, in charge, but both were strangers to raiding. They were friends when they could let the customs slip. It didn't excuse them from gossiping about me, though I wanted to know what the whispers were about. So far it sounded like some far-fetched theory that had gotten out of hand, the latest in a string to determine where I was from.

I should've guessed, after last night. Someone had caught wind of it, trying to score points with their friends by telling a new story. It didn't matter it was fake.

"What are you getting at?" The blonde one grew as impatient as me.

They closed in on us, almost reached the bend. They'd see the towel soon, and behind it, they would find Ubbe. Was that a good thing, or not?

"The way she dressed for battle, the way she can fire arrows from atop a horse, the carnage she brought forth... Can't you see? That woman is a Valkyrie!"

I rolled my eyes. Couldn't they see it was just pure luck and coincidence? They already believed I was the vessel of Freya, and now they knew I could fight they turned me into a Valkyrie as well?

"Some of the men went back to see what they could find, they wanted to make sure it wasn't idle gossip. It's all true, she killed sixteen men, by herself. It all makes perfect sense, trust me. Why else wouldn't she want anyone to see her fighting? And I heard even Ragnar asked her for advice on his plans before he left, he wouldn't just ask anyone to help him with that. She's a Valkyrie!"

The blonde woman raised an eyebrow as she turned to her companion. "Aren't they supposed to be of royal blood?"

"Who knows where she's from. For all we know, she might be. What if she came from Asgard? Would that not explain her knowledge of so many strange things?"

I laughed so hard my side hurt. This was just so absolutely fucking ridiculous. Tears of laughter and pain mixed together. The two women turned around and stared at me. I calmed myself down and covered up as best I could. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you like that."

"You're..." The posh one looked ready to keel over.

At one point it had been nice to have people recognize me. After the first mental hurdles, being an integral part of Kattegat had been an honor, and people being amazed by the sight of me had felt like a testament to that usefulness. Now, it felt like hollow praise. "Ragnhild. Pleased to meet you."

The women carefully approached me, as if I would lash out at a sudden movement. The stories had overtaken the truth already. Even Sif seemed to fear me as she would fear a Valkyrie standing before her.

The silence grew painful. "And you are..."

"I'm Pam," the chatty woman said. "I'm sorry about what I said, I didn't mean to insult you. And this is Sif."

"Princess Elisif," she corrected. The way her chin rose up slightly, her manners would win out over instincts. A princess, a true one like Aslaug had been. She looked every bit as beautiful as Harald had said she would be.

"Calling me a Valkyrie is hardly an insult, but I can assure you, that's not the case. I'm human, just like you." The women relaxed. "Who did you come here with?"

"Earl Vic, from Denmark. You're the wife of Bjorn Ironside, are you not?" Sif asked.

A stab through the heart. She knew we were about to divorce. Everyone knew. And still, it felt good to have someone call me that. "I am."

Pam's eyes bulged out of her skull. "Is it true you killed sixteen men yesterday, on your own? And that you didn't waste a single arrow?"

I sighed, not liking these rumors going around. "I got some earlier in the day as well. I killed twenty-two in total." I left out the arrow part. That wasn't a bad rumor to have going around.

"Did you get hurt? I heard the gods sent you to catch all of our wounds for us."

Sif turned to her companion, silencing her with a look. "Pam,” she whispered.

"I got a wound, but it was nothing fatal." I shifted in the water, thinking hard about how to turn this into something I could use. Harald's princess stood in front of me. I could win her over to our side, but if I did that too early, Harald would notice and retaliate.

"Is it true you are the vessel of Freya? I'm sorry if I'm being too nosy, it's just - I've heard so much about you, and I missed it when the markings were visible before. It's said you've shown them all recently."

I frowned. Today the one on my side had been visible, and the one on my thigh the night before. My back, when was the last time I'd shown that to anyone? Back when Bjorn had tried to rape me? Of course, at the feast, in that dress Siggy had made me. Right.

I needed to keep these women close. Pam was a perfect spill in all the rumors going around camp. "I guess I did. I didn't even realize until now. You know what, I'm having some trouble getting all the blood and dirt out of my hair because I can't move around too much. If you'd be so kind as to help me get the worst out, you can see all three of my markings."

Pam started to take off her dress before she'd even cast a look at Sif. Sif pulled at her arm, whispering nervously. Pam soothed her with a few kind words.

They took off their shoes and whatever clothing they could. I had to know where those rumors came from, so I could smother them while they were still small.

"I can't believe we'll finally get to see them," Pam said, giddy as a child.

"I can't believe I'll finally get that blood off me," I countered with a smile.

Sif squirmed as she stepped into the water, shrieking as the water reached her ankles and started to soak her shift. Still, she pushed through. Pam helped her wade through the water until they reached me.

Pam gasped. "There it is, the one on her back. Look at those lines. Did you cut your hair to show it more easily?"

"Pam," Sif hissed. "Mind your manners."

"It's okay," I lied. "I had to cut it off to save someone's life. It was the right thing to do."

Sif sighed, admiration in her eyes. "You're far more courageous than I." She started to pluck at my hair. Pam's fingers soon overtook hers; she knew how to clean my scalp properly. They made quite the pair.

"It's beautiful." Sif looked down at my hip. It was barely visible through the water. "I never saw a marking with color before, or a black that perfect. May I ask how you got it?"

"Freyja blessed me when I was a child. Only when I came here did I learn of its meaning." Ubbe had told me when I'd just been freed. The towel moved along in the breeze. Ubbe would save me if they tried to hurt me. He was listening. I lowered my arms to my side.

Pam let out a frustrated sigh. "How did you get it so messed up in the first place?"

"I disemboweled a man that tried to strangle me with his bare hands."

The fingers halted for a moment. Sif's eyes lowered to my neck, then she exchanged a look with Pam. I couldn't see her reaction, but the fingers resumed the prodding.

"Could you pour some water over her head, please?" Pam asked, her voice suddenly higher.

Pam continued to wash out my hair, aided by a handful of water by Sif every now and then. When the fingers retracted, I braced myself. Tit for tat. I'd promised them three markings.

I rose up. Being naked in front of strangers was not my favorite pastime, but it would mean a significant boost towards Sif's loyalty.

"Pam, look at this one here. Those colors..." Sif's hand carefully indicated the tattoo on my hip. She was born a princess, everything about her was soft and meant not to offend.

Harald's love for her was a childish folly. If they had gotten married, it wouldn't have lasted. He needed someone to go against him, not follow his every footstep. Sif wasn't able to lead a kingdom when her husband went off raiding. The only thing she had going for her was that she didn't seem as eager to be in charge. She was content. She'd married for love, or this Vic had grown on her as time passed by. Ignorance was truly bliss.

Sif lowered herself into the water to see the one on my thigh, keeping a respectable distance. Her amazement reminded me how special the tattoos were. Ragnar had freed me because of them. Egersund was part of the kingdom of Kattegat because of these markings. What was that earl's name again? He and his son had been among the first to die because of me.

I turned around so Pam could see the heart, too. She brushed a finger over the flames. Instantly, my mood turned sour.

I took a step backward. "Pam, Sif, thank you so much for helping me out."

The women looked up from the ink, a horrified expression taking over Pam's face. She wanted to open her mouth, but Sif touched her arm.

"I'll just soak for a bit longer, I'm sure I'll see you back at the camp."

"Yes, of course," Sif said with an elegant nod. She shot Pam a disappointed glance, just for a second. That was the most she would show in front of a stranger. "Thank you so much for extending us this courtesy. I'll be sure to tell my family all about it, and they will pass it on as well."

"Yes, thank you so much. I'll err - I'll remember this always." Pam rushed out of the water, pulling Sif out without much care for her shift.

Sif took her time trying to dry her shift before she let Pam put on her dress.

"We'll put on dry clothes back at the camp," Pam said.

"I've sand between my toes," Sif whispered, her eyes shooting in my direction.

It took forever, but finally, they left. I sighed as I let my head fall back, rushing through cleaning the rest of my body.

“They're gone,” I said as I rose up to see Pam and Sif were off towards the camp. I could see them in the distance, out of hearing distance.

"Auntie, what the fuck did you do," Ubbe whispered. He sounded angry as if I'd told him Margrethe was a whore.

"I gathered information. I needed to know more about those fucking rumors."

"Those rumors are what kept Graeme on our side!" He got up again, one hand clutching at the towel. Just in time he realized pulling it back was a bad idea. "I promised him battle with a Valkyrie by his side!"

"What!" I rose up from the water. Ubbe's hand disappeared from the towel. When I yanked it off the branch, he'd already turned around. "You have got to be kidding me! Who came up with that!"

"Bjorn did. He made us go past all the earls to share the news."

I rubbed my hair dry, again noticing too late that it had gotten cut. "Fuck!"

"You weren't exactly in a state to decide with us. Take it up with Bjorn. It's the only way to keep them here, and you are responsible for this mess, too."

"I know," I snapped through gritted teeth. Strategically the plan had been solid, but I hadn't stopped to think about the political ramifications. Harald would've noticed. He'd have started the stories about how only our own men got to kill. "Just as much as Bjorn is responsible. Why am I the one that has to fix it?" This shit would haunt me to my grave.

"Because we trust you."

I froze. If I'd leave Kattegat now everyone thought me a Valkyrie, that would be equal to shouting off the rooftops that I had withdrawn the favor of the gods from the Ragnarssons. If the plan worked, I'd be trapped in that town, no matter what Bjorn would do with a new wife.

He knew I'd never give up fighting for our children's birthright. He was looking at a life full of fights and strife, too. It'd been the last possible option he'd thought of. We'd be stuck together, for better or worse.

Every choice I made had consequences. The Seer had foretold it. I'd come up with a plan, hadn't thought out all the ramifications, and this was what came of it. "You've got to be kidding," I sighed, drying off the rest of my body. "I'll fight Bjorn over this when we're back at the camp."

"Auntie, you have to understand -"

"I know. I know exactly why he'd do something like this, what the risks are and what it could gain us." It was no consolation. I’d meant to be free of him, and now I’d be stuck with him regardless. I yanked my dress over my head, angry at the whole world. "Let's go back," I muttered. Only during this walk back I'd be able to feel disgusted and hate him for deciding this on his own.

"I know you hate it," Ubbe said. He put a hand on my shoulder.

"I know what's at stake. I know that ruling is about more than having power. It's about taking responsibility and sacrificing yourself for the good of your people."

Ubbe sighed. "You think that's not what Margrethe would do."

"I lied to you when you were young. I said you would be free to marry for love, but it's not that simple. You can't have a love like hers and the trust of your family at the same time. You need both if you want a chance at a happy life. This world is built on loyalty and violence."

"She can learn. Like you did; if you'll help her, she can become at least half as good as you." I was barely good enough myself, these days.

He'd never divorce her because I said so, and we needed to move past this fight. I needed to trust him; what would happen back in Kattegat would be a worry for a later time. "I'll do my best."

Just as Bjorn had predicted. I'd give the girl a fighting chance, if only for my boy. I hugged him tightly, hating myself for adding this to my load as well. I'd have to keep a tight schedule once we got back.

"About last night, when I got back..." Did he know about my pregnancy?

"Harald and Halfdan were out before you told Bjorn you loved him."

I grabbed his arm. "What?" Fuck. Did Bjorn - if he knew about the child, and those words... My breath caught in my throat. If he'd fight for me, would I still want to turn him away? Would I be strong in the face of him just as eager to reconcile?

"You... You don't remember, do you? Any of it."

"Hardly."

"Floki punctured the wound, you were bleeding internally. You thought you were giving birth to Kol. You kept shouting about mother, that she would kill your baby."

Fuck. He'd want to know what that was all about.

"And something about trading sons... I - I have to know, was that about me? When I took your sweets?"

A hand on my chest, I had to rest against a tree for a moment. Was that still on his mind? After all these years, I'd thought he would've moved past it. "Ubbe, this..." For him to walk around with such a burden, not knowing if he’d be able to talk to me about it at all, it must’ve been a terrible night for him.

"You saved my life back then. You accused Aslaug of killing your child in revenge. I can only think of the most insane ideas, none of them make sense. What happened?" He held my hand. When he frowned, his jaw had the same stubborn set Ragnar had.

"It wasn't about you. I promise. I - I can't have this coming back too, not right now. But I promise; I swear on all the gods and Asgard. It didn't refer to you."

He scoffed, a soft smile on his lips. His shoulders relaxed. "When it's calmed down," he agreed. "I understand."

"It's a long story, with a lot of different sides and consequences. You deserve to know, but I don't want to rush through it. I hate to ask at a time like this, but I need to know what else happened last night. I can't go back into camp blind." I had to know what would happen if I ran into Bjorn. Would he fall to his knees? Would he curse me for having to tie our fates together after I’d confessed how I felt?

"Right. Well... Sigurd almost lost it. You almost bled out; I can't blame him. He tries to hide it, but he's still not fond of blood. Bjorn threw him out, along with Hvitserk, but they just stepped back a bit. You recognized Bjorn’s voice and reached out to him, that's when you said that you loved him. He held your hand until it was done, said he didn't want you dying in his arms." A sliver of hope rose up in my chest. "He didn't want the children to lose their mother." The sliver died. "You were right, some things you can't erase. And Helga's scared of dying, because of what happened back then."

I nodded. "Floki told me." The rest would be negligible.

Ubbe smiled shyly. "And you called me Ragnar." He kept his eyes on my hand. "I always thought people were sucking up to me when they said I look like him."

"Not just your looks." I brushed my fingers over the side of his face. "The way you stepped up when Bjorn left me, the way you took care of your brothers and helped me out all the time... Family meant everything to him. I don't think I ever thanked you for giving up so much."

He kept staring at my hand, blinking heavily. "It was the right thing to do. Of course I stepped up."

“I'm still grateful. I don't say it enough.”

He poorly hid his smile. "Come on, let's head back. You've got an army to lie to."

I hugged him, glad to finally have it all behind us. "No one's around," I whispered in his chest.

"Hmm? Nothing's wrong." He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, then rubbed my back for a second. Was he forgetting what I'd taught him? Or was he growing strong?

I took his arm in mine and headed back. We were at peace again, at last. Now I could focus on other things, like this whole Valkyrie spiel and Halfdan's outrageous gift. At the least Ubbe didn't know about my pregnancy, that boded well for me. I couldn't imagine Bjorn keeping that silent when he figured it out.

"You know, it really is strange you're up, walking around already. Doesn't it hurt?"

"I have to move around so I'll heal faster. I won't overextend myself; I promise."

Ubbe didn't quite believe me, but he kept silent. The buzz of the camp started to sound like voices I could make out.

"... Valkyrie, I heard it, too..."

"... always knew that woman was..."

Ubbe pulled me forward. "This is good, remember? We want them to believe it. Put on your war face."

"... seen the way she rode in..."

My mood turned sour. "I don't have a war face."

"Then look like you did yesterday when you came back."

"That's my dying face," I muttered. The more I'd deny it now, the worse the rumors would become. "If anything, everyone expects me to say I'm not one."

"... must be true! I just talked to Pam..." Godsdamnit.

"... kind though, I thought they were supposed to..."

"... 22 men! On her own!"

I had to take another deep breath. Ubbe squeezed my arm. I could do this.

"... unbelievable, and we're here to see..." I wanted to turn back to the bend in the creek.

"There she is! Look, there!"

Head held high, I walked back into the camp. Ubbe let go of my arm, going off to Graeme's camp. For the first time in weeks, it felt genuine when we smiled at each other. It was my own fault this had cost me so much.

The camp's staring only grew worse. From the periphery of my vision, I saw men and women looking up from their tasks. The wound forced me to walk slowly as if it wanted to be admired. I could still feel some drops trying to make its way out of the crevice. The towel soaked them up as they touched.

This Valkyrie thing was even worse than being proclaimed a Vessel. Bjorn had made me come to terms with it, but we didn't know how to listen to each other anymore. I didn't want him near me, anyway.

I'd have to face him sooner or later. Perhaps meeting him one on one would be for the best. He'd be more open. I'd know where we stood. I had to go over to his tent, preferably today. Now things were right with the boys again I had to keep going. Forward momentum and all. Once I reached my tent I hung my towel out to dry and went inside.

I had to talk about it, and Bjorn was my best bet. No matter how painful it would get. But first I had to change. The dress chafed past the wound. I only had the one shirt after leaving the other one near the forest. Even if someone had brought it back from their scouting trip, I'd never see it back.

My breathing grew ragged. What did they all expect of me? Why had Bjorn forced me into this without asking first? He'd seen me last night, I couldn't do this. I couldn't handle it. They were wrong, I wasn't a Valkyrie. I could barely keep myself together.

I'd killed people. Alden, that bishop, Walden, Lefwyne, Sherman, and the others whose names I'd never learned. Twenty-two. With my bow. I'd sworn never to kill with it. I'd never go raiding again, either. I didn't belong here. I didn't deserve praise for almost dying, and certainly not for my courage. Only sheer luck had pulled me through.

“Err, Ragnhild?” Halfdan? What was he doing here? I had to be alone, not be on guard with every word I said. “Are you there?”

I scraped myself together. “I'm not in the mood for visitors.”

“I - I have something of yours.” My bow. He must’ve taken care of it again.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breath. “Oh, right. Just give me a moment.” I threw the dress in a corner and barely managed to reach for a shirt. It hurt to pull it on, as it hurt to lie down again and pull the furs over me. “Come in.”

Halfdan looked like he had to take a shit. He grabbed a skin and sat down, contrite as he held something on his lap. It was wrapped in cloth. That couldn't be my bow, what was it? "I heard you were up."

I rolled over on my side. It hurt too much. I fell back, biting my lip to keep from shouting. I had to settle for an arm propping up my head."Yes, the whole camp must know by now. Didn't you hear the whispers?"

Halfdan looked troubled. "Yeah, they might be overselling it. Are you sure you're okay?” He raised an eyebrow, but I didn't react. “So anyway, after last night I thought I'd help and unstrung your bow."

No, he didn't. "What?" I veered up, grunted, then fell back on the furs. Was this a deliberate attempt to sabotage me?

He shied away. "I thought no one would think about it, and you weren't in any condition to take care of it."

"I never unstring it, Halfdan. Because I can't get the string back without this tool Floki has, back in Kattegat. We were on a boat for five days! If you thought it strange you could've asked!" I clutched my side, shaking in anger.

"I thought you were lazy. You're messing up your stave like this. It was a mistake anyone could've made."

He was right, but I didn't like it. Without a bow, I was useless in the fight. The longbows everyone else used were too heavy to use with my injury.

"I go through those bows the same way you go through enemy scouts. Once the strength decreases too much because they're setting, I get a new one. Why do you think it doesn't have any fancy decorations?" I’d only packed the one, damnit. I hadn’t thought anyone would be stupid enough to touch my weapon.

"I didn't mean to destroy it," he insisted.

I took a deep breath. If this were Thormund's or Siggy's doing, I'd see this for what it was. He'd come forward about it, instead of hiding the evidence. He'd brought it up as soon as he could, even. He took responsibility for his actions. I'd never fault that in my children, and it wouldn't do to fault a friend for the same.

"I'm not angry at you, I'm frustrated over the bow. With this wound, I can't pull back a longbow far enough to be useful in a fight.” I forced myself to take another deep breath. I could cry over my bow at another time. "There's nothing we can do about it now. And there's something I wanted to talk about. Those arrows -"

Halfdan put up his hand, visibly more relaxed. "Were a gift freely given. You saved my life, and you had to give up something you hold dear to do so."

I stared at him, amazed at his fierce response.

"I saw, when you were bathing. When you did that floaty thing. You were... There were tears in your eyes. And then when you got dressed you kept trying to touch your hair. I'm not an idiot. You hate that it's short now."

That hadn’t been the reason I’d teared up. "Halfdan..."

"You sacrificed it so I could warn the others. You saved my life. I already had some men working on a new quiver for you, though I have no idea why you'd use one for your back. After I saw you at the stream, I got them to work on a number you deserved."

"There were nine arrows in each quiver." Freyja, bless his heart.

"Nine quivers,” he confirmed. He’d meant to repay a debt of life. This was even bigger than Hvitserk had thought.

"I always use fifteen in a quiver. I trust on it blindly. Those nine arrows put me in danger. I realized I was running out just in time."

He stared at me. I'd meant to calm him down, not have him worry more. "I went back there this morning. I had to see for myself. You left all their iron. If you want it, it's yours." The remorse dripped off his face.

"Let me finish. I was left with three walking soldiers, and then a coward came along. The soldier who hit me had a crossbow. I had to hide behind a tree while the other two were to my back. I lay on the ground as the one who shot me approached. He was less than three feet away, and then one of his buddies came up from behind. I could barely shoot off a single arrow."

"I know. You almost died."

"I did, Halfdan. And do you know why I survived? Because those blasted fucking arrows of yours pierce armor without needing as much strength. I couldn't have made it out without those arrowheads."

His shoulders fell. The look in his eyes softened. "They're useless now, though. Too short for a regular bow."

"Only Floki will know for sure. Maybe he can fix it."

Halfdan stayed put. He came closer, eyes flashing up at mine as he grabbed an edge of the furs.

I nodded.

He lifted the furs up. His mouth opened.

"I washed up. It seems to have closed well enough. This time without the internal bleeding."

"Impossible. You had to be closed up twice. The whole camp heard."

"I'm fine."

"You were screaming about your baby. I wasn't inside, but I heard. You fought like a Valkyrie to keep your child safe." Did he know about my pregnancy?

"I was hallucinating. It happens when you lose a lot of blood."

"I thought you'd gotten strong since Bjorn left, but it seems I was wrong.” He remembered himself and put the furs back in place. “I'd better get that bow to Floki."

"Why were you wrong?" I needed to hear it. Someone I hadn't known all my life.

He knew, somehow. And still, he didn't mind. "You've always been strong.”

A warmth spread through my skin. It went down my spine, healing my anxiety. I could do this. One step at a time, I would make it out of here, back to my children.

“Your children will scold you for getting hurt like this. You're the only one injured last night."

"The battle where no Viking died." I chuckled, lowering my arm.

"Where the gods themselves bled for Ragnar’s revenge. Everyone thinks they'll reach Valhalla as long as they're on a battlefield with you. If you won't keep everyone alive, that is."

I stared up at the ceiling. My smile faded.

"I err.. I'd better get going."

"Yeah. Thanks for visiting."

Halfdan left, leaving me victim to my demons. I didn't want the whole camp to look at me like I was some miracle. I still hated it when people called me Vessel.

“Auntie!” Sigurd pushed aside the skin before I could respond. He hugged me tight, careful not to touch my stomach. “I had to finish up first, but I came as soon as I could. Ubbe said you were fine, how can that be?”

I hesitated, not knowing the answer myself. “Floki says the gods are with me. It’s healing nicely. I was actually about to see if he has some more of that poultice.”

“Don’t bother, he threw some salve at me when he saw me coming. He’s angry with you?”

I pushed aside the furs far enough for Sigurd to put on the salve. It soothed the wound immediately. I recognized the smell; it was antiseptic stuff mixed in with something to cool the wound. “Floki thinks Helga is afraid of dying. He blames me for her fear. Says his problems aren’t less than mine.” I kept silent over the bow.

Sigurd frowned, focusing on the salve and my wound. “I gathered as much. Hvitserk said he’s not been the same since he came back.”

“I was too busy to pay it much attention. Thought it was because of Tanaruz.”

“Well, that’s probably part of it. We caught some snippets on the way over.” He kept his eyes on the wound, going over the puckered skin with great care. He’d gone over it twice, now. So far, he hadn't flinched at the sight of it. Neither had the others. They were either kind, or blind.

“Halfdan just came by.” I propped my head up on an arm. Sigurd went for a third round, adding even more salve. “He explained. Me sacrificing my hair for his safety meant I held a debt of life. It’s why he got me those arrows.”

Sigurd’s eyes flashed up to mine. The careful tapping on my wound stopped. “What arrows?”

“I know you spoke to your brother. You knew something about me was off, and I apologize for making you feel like I wasn’t there for you.”

“You have to be careful around him,” he stressed.

“I know. He’ll always be loyal to Harald. We talked about it. We know we’re still enemies at heart. But there are things I can talk to him about that I can’t share with you or your brothers.”

“Like what?” He cleared the salve off his hands, pouting his lips.

Sigurd had no reason to be jealous. “Yesterday, one of the topics that came by was what I’d do after I’m divorced from Bjorn. I told him it would be great to be able to sleep around.”

Red as a boiled lobster, Sigurd turned back to the wound. I chuckled.

“Auntie, you can’t say things like that.”

I laughed at his poor attempt to chastise me. “Why not? Because it embarrasses you? Don’t I deserve to be happy?”

“It’s just weird, okay?”

I calmed down, forcing my smile down. “Which is why I don’t talk about it with you.”

“If it’s anything else, though.” He pointed a finger at me, already grabbing a bandage.

“I’ll need your help more than ever, Sigurd. When we get back to Kattegat, everything will change. It’s not that uncommon for people to be confused after they divorce. I have to figure out who I am without your brother as my husband.” I couldn’t bring myself to say his name, not in this context. It hurt. It tried to drag my lips down in a desperate wail.

I took a deep breath, watching Sigurd cover the wound up as he tied it off. “You must have questions after last night.”

He finished bandaging me before he turned to me. He looked sad. “Do you blame me for -”

“No. Never have, not a second. I didn’t even want to lie to you. I didn’t want you to feel the guilt over losing me. I knew you’d listen to me if I did. I couldn’t sacrifice you for… I just couldn’t.” I reached out to his hand. “I made a choice that day, and I never regretted keeping you safe.”

“Then, what you said about Aslaug…”

“Ubbe wondered the same. I will explain it all to you, but I don’t have time right now. I have to talk to Bjorn about this Valkyrie business.”

Sigurd’s eyes lit up. “I heard. The whole camp thinks it's true."

"I thought it couldn't get much worse after word got out I’m the vessel of Freyja."

"You don't like it?"

"I hate it. I know I fought well yesterday but in the end, it was luck and some bad decisions over anything else. I don't understand why people think the gods were involved." There had to be a logical explanation for the wound, too. It didn’t feel like I got stabbed twice with a burning blade. Maybe once.

Was the rest hallucinating, too? Or did Helga forget what she really saw in her panic? Maybe she'd had a déja vu. Bread mold, that did a number on people, as well.

"Well, you have to admit. You looked the part yesterday. All that you lacked were wings. And you have to remember what it said on that blanket." Apparently, Sigurd had eaten some bread mold, too.

That fucking blanket. It all wound up back to that. I hadn't pulled it out for years, it was probably covered in holes and eaten through by moths.

Selby, that was her name. She'd made it for me, and if her neighbor could be believed, she'd started on it a year before I came here.

"Looking like something doesn't make it the same," I insisted. I couldn't deal with Sigurd and Hvitserk chasing a fairy tale, not on top of all the other things. Would this chaos go on until after I gave birth? I'd never have a quiet day again. I wouldn't sleep a full night until after the child would.

"It was a Valkyrie on that blanket, I know it. She looked like you, she had wings. It's too many coincidences to not be true."

Oh, gods. He wanted it to be true. He would love it if I turned out to be some mythical being. So would Hvitserk. They must've convinced each other it was true.

He shrugged. Was he trying to fool me? "I'm just being honest. When it comes to these kinds of things you always assume it's dumb luck, but what if it isn't?"

I couldn’t believe my ears. "You want me to believe it just because people say I am one? People used to say I had an affair with Erlendur."

"No, not if you put it like that. But that's a completely different thing."

"Don't you think I would have known if I was a Valkyrie? Or could I simply forget about that?

He huffed, crossing his arms. "There's no sense arguing with you when you talk like that."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked.

"When it comes to the gods you can make everything sound just the way you want it to."

I scoffed. How often hadn't I used that argument against religion? Now I was using it to prove my own point. "Okay, point taken. Tell me, do you believe it?"

He opened his mouth, not willing to look me in the eye. He let out a sigh and closed it again.

“Good to know. I have to get going. Thanks for the salve.”

“It’s nothing personal, okay?”

“It’s my life. Do you think I’ll ever get a quiet day once this spreads through Scandinavia?”

“You know the gods have something huge in store for you. I don’t understand how this is something you hate, when you love the gods.”

“I choose to love the gods. I didn’t choose this. Throw me a pair of pants, will you?”

Sigurd left so I could get dressed. It took forever to get the pants on while keeping the bandages in place. Sigurd had tied it too loosely, I'd have to get it redone later today.

I breathed in deep, bracing myself for the oncoming storm. The sun beat down on my face. I'd get a sunburn at this rate. Maybe I could whip up some lotion to take off the worst of it.

No, I had to focus. I should worry about what to ask Bjorn. About last night, about this ridiculous plan of his. If he suspected I was with child, everything would change. He'd put an end to this Valkyrie plan of his, but that was the only good thing to come of this. The best I could hope for what that he didn't know, and that he didn't care about last night.

A huge skin covered the entrance to Bjorn's tent. I put my hand on it. The guard beside it watched me intently. I walked in. One step at a time.


	40. The Ghosts of a Decade Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

Ragnar had always taken the effort to decorate his tent. He'd claimed it inspired awe towards foreign diplomats sent over to haggle. A few swords and axes, a battered shield, all to make it abundantly clear to everyone that the Viking were not a peaceful people. As the leader, he oozed grace and hospitality, setting him apart from the others. Those negotiators had been lucky to come across him, and not another king or earl.

Bjorn didn't consider it worth the trouble. His tent was bare compared to Ragnar's. The skins covering the poles started to look thin. I'd always been the one to make sure those got changed out. After three years, they started to lose the fight against the elements. At the least they let some of the heat out, now.

In the corner he had a bed that looked more comfortable than my own back home, but otherwise it was filled with chests, stacked above each other. The one I'd salvaged from the Saxons was among them. No one had dared meddle with the lock yet. The large table in the middle took up most of the space. Bjorn sat at the table by himself, sharpening his axe on a flat rock. The sound of rock brushing against iron still soothed him. What had made him anxious?

"I wondered when you'd show up." He didn't bother looking up when I came in.

I slowly lowered onto the chair next to him. My eyes lingered on the other side of the table, where he'd fucked me. I could’ve fooled myself into believing it had all been a dream. It was easier than facing the truth. "About last night. Ubbe told me."

"What about?" He ran his thumb over the edge of his axe.

"You know. What I said."

He put his weapon down and stared at me. Did he really want to be this petty? Was this supposed to be the leader of the Great Heathen Army?

I kept my eyes on his, staring hard. He wouldn't see a shred of emotion, not if he didn't feel vulnerable, too. "I told you that I loved you." Slivers of hope danced in my heart. My face warmed up. It had been too long since I'd told him.

"All part of the hallucination, I'm sure. You had to calm down, so I played along. It meant nothing."

Ice spread through my veins as I let my breath escape. The war inside my heart flared up again. "Are we fine, then? Can we move past all this and be parents together when we get back?" I hated myself for saying it out loud.

Bjorn cocked his head. His eyes were still on the axe. How long had he been sharpening it? "I assumed you'd leave after the divorce. You're too much like Lagertha not to want to be away, at least for a year or so."

My mouth fell open. "Then why did you crown me a Valkyrie? I'll never be able to leave without hurting Kattegat, now. I know the markets will shrink when I leave, but -"

"What are you talking about?" He was clueless. He'd ruined my life over nothing.

I couldn't hide my disgust. How could he have been that careless? He needed to be sharp if he wanted to lead us. If he made mistakes like this, what else could he be fucking up? Could I still trust him with command of the army? These were six thousand lives on the line. "Bjorn. What the fuck did you do?"

He shrugged. "I came up with a lie to keep the earls satisfied. It was your plan to leave them out, and that made them angry."

"You fucking idiot," I breathed. How could he have been so stupid? "You ruined my life. I'll never have a peaceful day again. And now you mean to tell me it was revenge? Do you have any idea how this will impact the children?"

The axe landed on the table with a dull blow. Finally, he cared enough to pay me any real attention. "You can't accuse me of shit like that anymore. Why do you insist on blaming me for everything?"

"You blind, pathetic asshole! What happens when we win, huh? When we get back home and all those fucking earls will spread the word that I'm a Valkyrie? If you thought I had influence on the markets, just wait until this comes back to bite you in the ass. I can't leave Kattegat now, ever. If I do, I proclaim that you and Lagertha are no longer favored by the gods."

He looked away, crossing his arms. "You're overreacting. It won't get that far."

"Already they're whispering that me being injured means that the gods bled for your father's legacy." He'd better not brush this off, I was not in the mood for his games.

"Who told you that?"

"Halfdan." I leaned forward, anticipating his response.

He bared his teeth. "That weasel? You trust his word?"

"He saved my life last night."

"You can't be serious. How fucking dense are you? You can't trust him. You can't be friends. I thought Hvitserk must've been wrong, but now I hear it from your own mouth. You think you can be friends with him? He's more dangerous to your life than my lie is. How dare you think it's okay to ask Halfdan over for dinner. You took an enemy into our home and let him interact with our children!"

My blood simmered, eager to have me lash out. I had to stick to my message. "Don't you dare change the subject. You took away my choice, again. I don't want to play at being a Valkyrie."

"It's always about choice with you. Fuck choice. You don't get to choose this time. No one does, because your plan got us in this shitstorm in the first place. You fucked up, and now you're upset over the consequences?"

"I was asleep! You could've woken me up and asked me about it! If that's too much effort for you, why did you bother coming here in the first place! "

"How could I know if you would ever wake up again!"

I leaned back, fighting the shaking of my bottom lip. "If I'd died, your plan would've backfired in the worst way possible. You were careless, you were stupid, and I hate you for this." The muscles in my neck felt stiff as I spoke.

His voice dropped. "You will play the part of a Valkyrie. That's final. Now let me see that wound."

I got up. This wasn’t going into the direction I’d hoped. This was how we always ended up fighting, but normally, he didn’t look ready to kill me over it. "Over my dead body. I don't want you to touch me."

His nostrils flared. "I need to know how long you'll take to recover."

"You can just ask. You don't need to see it." I moved a foot back, toes finding a foothold in the furs. My hand let go of the chair I'd sat on. My body tensed.

He pounded his fist on the table. "You are still my wife! With Odin as my witness, I will force you to show me if I have to!"

He would. He'd not made an idle threat for years. He'd held me down on the ground before. He'd hurt me over this. His eyes didn't lie.

I backed away from the chair, keeping my eyes on his. My breath grew heavy. He softened up, but I wouldn't fall for it. He wouldn't get near me, ever again.

"Ragnhild. Calm down, please. I didn't mean it like that."

"Stay away from me," I whispered. The hairs on my arm stood up. Was this really happening? Would he restrain me like that? I backed up an extra step.

He took a step in my direction. "It came out wrong. Please, sit down. I know that if I asked, you'd lie and say you're fine."

"That's because I am fine, as long as you don't touch me." My heart beat in my throat. I couldn't turn around, or start shouting. He'd lunge out at me. I had to get out of here.

Behind me a man came in. "Forgive the intrusion." It was Ulf; he'd guarded the entrance.

My heart sank. I took a deep breath, hoping I would calm down again. I'd need my wits if I were to get away from Bjorn.

Bjorn took two steps forward. They were equal to three of mine. He stood beside me, his shape looming over me. "I told you not to disturb me."

"I'm here to disturb Ragnhild. She's got visitors."

I blinked, keeping my eyes on Bjorn's shoulder. "Why did they come here?" I asked.

"They say it's a matter for you. This woman claims it's got to do with the gods." Ulf looked caught in between two fires. "They won't leave. One of them is crying."

More people in here meant Bjorn couldn't do a thing. I'd leave with them. It was the safest option. "Well, get them inside then." I walked towards the entrance. Anything to get away from Bjorn. Though the tension had broken, I'd still rather avoid standing next to him.

He huffed, rolling his shoulders. He could suck a dick. Being interrupted by other people's problems had always been a part of our lives. He'd never complained about it before; part of him loved that I knew how it was to have people look up to me because of my reputation. Both of us hated it.

Ulf held open the entrance. Pam came in, supporting an inconsolable Sif.

"Sif? What's going on?" I pulled back a chair for her, searching her face for clues.

Pam helped her sit down, then kneeled at her side. Sif waved at Pam, whose eyes slid to Bjorn.

"Just ignore him," I said. "What happened? This morning you were fine."

"I didn't know where else to go. We need your help, Ragnhild."

"What's going on?"

"Earl Vic, her husband... Sif was courted by another man before she got married. She turned him down, but he insists she had promised herself to him. They met again in the camp. He buried his axe in earl Vic's head, in front of her."

Fuck. Harald had already made his move. I flashed Bjorn a look, who didn't react at all. Either he didn't realize yet, or he didn't care.

"What? Who did it? Surely someone caught him."

"He's a king in his own right. Please, you are a Valkyrie. You choose who dies in battle. We beg you, choose Harald to die in the next battle."

I turned to Bjorn, switching to Dutch. His face had turned grave. "This is only going to get worse. Tell me again I should just do as you say."

"I couldn't have known about this," he snapped.

I focused back on Sif and Pam. "I told you before, I'm not a Valkyrie. It's not my decision to make." Nor was it an option to have Harald arrested over this. He outranked Bjorn.

"Please, you have to help. If not as a Valkyrie, then as the Vessel of Freyja. I know you're a kind-hearted, brave woman. You have to stop Harald, he can't go unpunished."

Sif drowned into her sorrows, collapsing in her seat. Pam tried to help her sit up, but it was useless. She threw me a look, asking me what else she could try.

"It's not my decision to make. Mourn your husband. If you need anything for the rites, let me know. I'll see to it personally."

Bjorn swept in, laying a careful hand on Sif's shoulder. "I'll talk to Ragnhild. You two had better get going before Harald finds out you came to her."

Fucking bastard. He meant to keep me back. "I'll walk with you," I offered, helping Sif up from her seat again. She fell in Pam's arms.

"We'll manage. If Harald sees us together he might suspect foul play. Ironside is right. Thank you so much for your time. I know you'll do the right thing."

They were off before I could think of a reason for me to get out, too. Bjorn's presence suffocated me. I didn't dare turn around.

"Ragnhild."

I shivered. He stood too close to me. I couldn't breathe.

"Please, don't be afraid. I won't touch you, I promise. We need to talk about this, now."

"I don't believe you," I whispered.

Behind me, a seat got pulled back. "I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I swear, it wasn't out of malice. I don't care if you sit at the other end of the table, but we do need to talk about this."

Slowly I turned around again. Bjorn sat as far away from me as he could, hands flat on the table.

Taking a deep breath, knowing I'd be faced with Bjorn sooner or later, I took a step forward. Best to get it over with. Two seats away from Bjorn, I sat down. The axe he'd been sharpening lay before me on the table. I put a hand down next to it.

He pushed something down. His face was still as stone again. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"No."

He got up. My hand shot towards the axe. Slowly, he rose and went for a skin. He emptied it in a mug. "I didn't expect something like that to happen," he said, waving towards the exit. "No one could've predicted that."

"That's not an excuse. You forced me into this without thinking it through, and without consulting me about it first. This will impact Kattegat, my life, and that of our children."

"It's no use to linger on that, now. We have more important matters to discuss."

"I agree. So apologize, and we can move on."

His lip curled up. He tried to hide it with a sip of his mug too late. "I apologize," he muttered.

It wouldn't do to push him further, tempting as it was. "We can't kill Harald here."

"Agreed. We can't let him go unpunished, either."

I removed my fingers from the ax. Bjorn saw. Despite his piss-poor apology, he was filled with sorrow. His eyes never lied. "We don't even know if Harald is still a threat," I reminded him. "He could give up on his ambitions, for all we know. He only ever fought for her."

"Which means Halfdan could go rampant. He needs to fight, it's in his blood. He doesn't know what else to do with his life." He wanted to say more but refrained. He must've worried over the children being around such a monster.

The joke was on him. The way Bjorn described it, Halfdan might know about this bloodlust of mine. Who knew, if things settled down I could try and talk to him about it. If we'd still be friends, after all of this.

"We'll have to figure it out, and soon. When do you plan on attacking Aelle? I could always shoot him in the battle, pick up an enemy arrow."

His eyes flitted across the tent. "That - that depends on your wound. When are you able to fight?"

"How much time can you give me?"

"This is exactly what I don't want to hear," he insisted. "You need to recover on your own terms, at least enough to sit a horse without the wound tearing again."

I stared at the axe before me. Once upon a time I'd been scared of weapons. They still meant death and bloodshed to me, but the meaning of those words had changed. "I thought you needed me to fight."

"If that's not an option, I still need you to be there on that horse of yours." He needed me.

I smothered the sliver. "I can't know for sure. Maybe tomorrow I can sit a horse again. I'd have to shoot an arrow - oh, fuck." I buried my face in a hand.

"What is it?" His voice held a tinge of urgency.

"My bow. Halfdan unstrung it."

"Godsdamnit, Ragnhild. And you seriously wonder why I don't want him around? He did this on purpose."

"He wouldn't dare. I saved his life."

"Halfdan doesn't know honor if it would fuck him up the ass."

My fingers hovered over the handle of the axe again. Bjorn sat back, calming down considerably. He knew I couldn't throw it at him, but he was anxious about it all the same. Was he scared of me lashing out at him? I'd have to start carrying a weapon around if that were true.

"Halfdan considered my hair a sacrifice to save his life. He repaid a life debt to me. I accepted it only after he admitted to fucking up my bow. I am a hundred percent certain that he did not do this on purpose."

Bjorn breathed in deep, his chest puffing up. He gave his mug a disgusted look. "I don't agree."

Amazing. He wanted to avoid us getting into a fight, for once. What did he need from me?

Feeling stronger, my voice grew clearer. "In two days I should be able to ride a horse well enough to be present at the battle. The longer you can give me, the better our chances are of me firing off an arrow with a longbow."

Brooding didn't suit Bjorn. His face was made for scowling, not this half-arsed attempt at pouting. "Halfdan already sent out scouts. We should easily have two days."

"Good. We should be able to find out what Harald is up to before then."

"I don't want you talking to Halfdan. You need to rest." Was he jealous? My heart wanted it to be so. Part of me wanted to fall into his arms, hold him close.

I'd whisper that I wasn't afraid of him. That he had nothing to fear. That I'd always loved him, despite everything. That I carried his child. "What else do you suggest? Interrogating Harald at sword-point?"

"We can call a meeting to strategize over your role as Valkyrie. We'll wriggle it out of him, I know we can do it if we work together."

We'd been on opposing sides for too long. Sharing a common goal would draw me back in again. But if I didn't work with him, we could lose our home. The children could be in danger, my little sprout first and foremost. "I don't know if we can just pretend to fight. We're not even friends anymore, it'll."

Bjorn's face grew determined, that same stubborn set in his jaw showing. He was convinced we'd be able to do it. "We need to be allies, not friends."

"If it doesn't work, I'll talk to Halfdan anyway."

"You won't have to. We'll get him to admit his new plans tonight."

I got up. "Then we're done here. I'll see you tonight."

The bandage started to slip. I barely caught it in time.

"Ragnhild." Bjorn rushed towards me, before I could reach for the axe. "Sit down, please. You have to let someone check that out, it's not healed yet."

I pushed him off. "I'm fine, Bjorn. The bandage slipped, is all. Sigurd was too careful when he put it on."

He let go, reluctantly. "You should've said something."

He was too close. He cared too much.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"You almost died in my arms."

My eyes shot up. What was he trying to do? "You said it didn't matter."

"I said I know you don't love me anymore. I never said I didn't care about you."

No. No, no, no. This couldn't be happening. I took a step back, shaking my head. This was not the time for Bjorn to have profound realizations about back then. "Last night. You finally understand."

He got to his feet as well. He'd not looked this sincere at me since the day he'd left me. "You attacked Floki. You kicked a red hot knife from his hands because you thought he would kill our child."

Angry tears fought to leave my eyes. "I fought like a Valkyrie to keep him alive. Ten years ago. Last night was just a memory coming back. A scrap of what I remember after all this time. It was nothing like how it was for me back then." How dared he think it had been that simple. He hadn't seen the pain of feeling his tiny body sliding out of me, lifeless. He didn't remember the feel of skull fragments scraping past his thighs.

I shouldn't have spoken. Bjorn carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Ten years already..."

"I don't have time to do down memory lane with you. I have to prepare for dinner. I need to get this bandage fixed. I have to keep the earls loyal to you. Don't you have things to do? Or do you want me to take over for you while I'm at it? What is it you're contributing to this plan, anyway?"

"Don't be like that. Ragnhild, we need to talk about this." He extended a hand.

I stared at it. Knowing what would happen if I took it. Knowing what the children would say, how the boys would grunt and what obscenities Helga would shout at me. My heart wanted to reach out. The slivers hadn't been this strong in weeks. Did I want to be weak and give in? Or was I strong enough to resist? Who did I want to be? "I tried to talk about it for a decade. It's not my fault you couldn't understand. You were the one that didn't want to listen and asked for a divorce." I left him behind, unable to watch him react.

I didn't want to be this cruel to him. I couldn't get over him like this. This wasn't who I was. But how was I ever going to get over him? I'd always run into him. I couldn't leave town, ever. I wanted to be done with it. I was only hurting myself, time and time again.

The only thing I could do now was to get on with my life. There was plenty to live for. Life didn't stop with a divorce, though I'd treated it as such for far too long. Making up with the boys was just the start.

Floki sat outside his tent, watching the world pass by with angry eyes. He pretended I wasn't there. There was no way he could’ve known about Pam and Sif, or Harald. He hadn’t known about Halfdan before either. What he did know, was that I lied to him about needing to cry, instead of being honest. If the boys tried anything like that with me, I'd scold them for a week.

I kneeled beside him. "You're right. I'm sorry. I couldn't keep it from happening yesterday, but I should've noticed Helga felt this way. It's been there for weeks, and I ignored it."

"Apologies don't give me back my wife." His gaze remained hard. "She saved your life three times. And yet you manage to hurt her for being close to you." He left unspoken how many times he’d saved mine, his hands focused on the wood he was carving. It got rounder with every scrap of his whittle. "You lied to me."

"I had to get away."

"Then you ask me to leave. You don't go off by yourself to bathe in a stream when your wound is still raw and open. You don't run off by yourself. You are with child, and you're supposed to be smart."

My hands lay useless on my lap. I stared at them, and the white circle where my wedding ring used to be. "I'm falling apart. I'm in way over my head. I'm suffocating, and I did it all to myself."

Even to my own ears it sounded pathetic. Vikings didn’t drown in self-pity. They didn’t blame the world around them for their lives being tough. They didn’t blame the gods, or the weather, or how they felt. They took responsibility.

Floki sighed. "So what, you think you have to get out by yourself? I thought you were past that."

"I tried to talk to Helga, but then you came in."

"I need my own problems fixed, first."

He knew I hadn’t collapsed into that hallucination on purpose. He just didn’t care. I should’ve guessed as much. Floki was more than a crutch. He would stay loyal to Bjorn and me until he died. He wouldn’t be much help without Helga being happy, though. I’d lost sight of those below, with all the fighting at the top.

I needed him to help me if I was to get through this campaign without any more scars. "Is she in there?"

He grunted. I left him to his carving. He'd mellow once I convinced Helga she wasn't dying because of me.

Helga sat in a corner, trapping Tanaruz. She tried to braid the girl's hair, but she moved her head too much to get anywhere.

"Can I come in?" I asked as I sat down. I couldn't sit down on my haunches for long.

Helga clutched Tanaruz tight. The girl looked miserable. "Ragnhild. I - I thought you needed to rest." Her hands passed over Tanaruz' black hair. Both looked ready to have a nervous breakdown.

"I'm doing better than expected. Helga..."

She burst into tears, clutching the girl so tight she panicked. I grabbed her hands and forced them off of Tanaruz’ back, letting Helga wrap me tightly instead. The girl got out of the tent the moment she got free.

I slowly combed my fingers through her hair, drawing her in even tighter. "Oh, Helga. You saved my life, and that of my child. Why are you crying?"

She stammered, her breath growing hitched. "I had to," she squeezed out.

"You even kept it a secret. Aside from you and Floki, no one knows. You are amazing. If I can ever help you in return, with anything at all, just say the word." I cupped her face. "You're a gift from the gods." A kiss on her forehead sealed it.

She hugged me tightly. "I couldn't let you hate me again."

"I never hated you, and I can’t imagine I ever will. Floki told me about your worries. The gods aren't after those I love. Vinh died because she blocked any chance Ari had to settle in our lands. It was his revenge on her, it had nothing to do with you or me or Kol."

"But the Lawmaker, and Frida, they died, too. And the Seer told you that you'd lose someone close to you, didn't he?"

"The gods are by my side," I whispered. "You saw it yourself. Why would they harm those I love? I would hate them forever if they took you away from me. The Seer's been wrong so many times before. Remember when he refused to speak about what Aslaug had seen? Or that time he told Lagertha she would find happiness in England?"

"You should blame me," she sobbed. "I got your child killed."

"Nonsense. You kept me alive. You fought against Aslaug. All you did was give her a chance to prove she wasn’t the witch I made her out to be. You’ve always seen the good and beauty in others, how can I fault you for something I admire so much? You are the reason I have three wonderful children waiting for me. And I'll need you again when this one shows its face." I dragged her hand to my stomach. Her fingers curled into my shirt.

One of her fingers caught in the bandage. "It's come loose," she muttered. "Sigurd should know better. Soft healers make for stinking wounds." Her fingers pried at the bandage.

I gently pushed her hands away. "Helga. The gods love you. They won’t kill you if you don’t help me. You know that, right?"

Helga pushed her hands over her eyes. She'd bounce back. It would take a few days, but she'd be okay. And as soon as she was fine, I could breathe easier as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life caught up with me so it's only one chapter this week. I'll fix the quotation marks as soon as I have access to my PC - I'm currently in a high-speed train heading to Stockholm. I'll finally get to see Uppsala and what's left of it!
> 
> I should be able to post a new chapter next Tuesday as always.


	41. Knowing Me, Knowing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18-05-815

Floki whistled from outside. "We have to get to that dinner."

I took in a deep breath, looking around me. I'd dozed off? Perhaps for the best. My wound didn't hurt nearly as much as before. Only some light pressure remained. "Just a sec, I'll be right out." I chugged the water that was left in the skin Helga had left me. My lips felt dry, as they had all day. 

Once we were there, I'd have to act in charge. I had to focus, tonight was about Harald and his plans to invade Kattegat. He'd killed Vic, Sif wanted me to kill him in return. I shouldn't worry about Bjorn, or the doubt he had cast into my heart. Sigurd would be there, and Hvitserk, Ubbe, Floki. They would keep him away from me if he tried anything funny. We'd have a large table in between us. 

Floki scowled as I emerged, his eyes locked on my wound. "If you snore again tonight when I try to sleep, I'll smother you with your bed furs."

"I don't snore," I insisted. Still, I smiled carefully. If he complained about this, his anger was subsiding. Helga was doing better. 

"So what is this dinner all about? Bjorn made it sound ominous."

Bjorn had come here? I kept my eyes straight forward as we walked, Floki keeping to my pace. "I went to see him after Sigurd came by."

He turned to face me, eyes searching me as I searched for the right words. "You think it smart to hide things for me? On a day I already caught you in a lie?"

"It has to do with me being a Valkyrie. I want to, but I can't say more. Bjorn and I, we - I don't..." I took a deep breath, trying my best to keep a steel face. 

"Bjorn saved your life last night just as much as Helga did. He sent away the boys so she had the calm to keep you both safe."

"Shh," I hissed. He'd betray me if he kept up this callous attitude towards it. 

"Why do you hide it?"

"He'd send me back home. My place is here." 

We passed by a group of warriors, their spirits lifted as they passed us by. A woman whispered too loud about how I'd get them all back to Sweden in one piece. Had Ragnar inspired the same confidence in his people? It was too long ago to remember clearly. Bjorn had never come close to this. 

"I can't tell if that makes you selfish or not."

"I'm thinking of everyone else before my children, right now." They'd resent me for choosing the realm over them. I'd taken too many risks already. I'd come here for them, for their new sibling. The one who would be safe. I wouldn't die until he was born... If he'd spoken true. 

The Seer was either losing his touch, or we were able to break free from the fate he foretold. His prophecies could be changed. Which meant my child was still in danger. The boys were, everyone was. I couldn't count on his mumbling drivel to be true. 

Floki slowed down to keep up with my somber pace. "I meant to say, I can't read you like before. What do you want to achieve?"

"I want to keep those around me safe. It's what I've always wanted. If you can't see that anymore, maybe I've strayed too far. I've been selfish, I know that. I'm trying to make amends. I made peace with the boys today, even Ubbe."

"Hmm. That's a start."

I glanced up, but Floki didn't show a thing. His face was calm, resolute, ready for war. "Floki? I'm not the only one that changed. What's going on?"

"Nothing you need to worry about. You have enough going on." He did nothing to ease my mind. 

"Then answer me this. You are fine with me lying to the army and the gods? You know I'm not a Valkyrie. Yet you will support this plan of Bjorn?"

He kept silent as we walked to the tent. Right before we could see inside, I put a hand on his arm. 

"Floki," I whispered. "I need you. Not just now, but in my life. If you ever need me in return, I'm here for you."

"Funny. Bjorn said he needed me today, too. Said he needed the boys to be kept calm, for fear they might bring up last night again." 

Bjorn had been too obvious. He didn't know subtlety if it would fuck him up the ass. 

"I don't care about last night. They can feel what they want and not be ashamed of it. But I can't have them asking about what it all meant to me. Aslaug, Vinh, that needs to be handled where Harald can't hear."

"Then what about Halfdan?" Floki raised an eyebrow as he entered the tent. 

I didn't have time to take a bracing, deep breath. I followed Floki in, then took my place in between Halfdan and Sigurd. 

"Late again," Bjorn said as I lowered myself into the chair. 

"Don't start with me," I countered. The atmosphere was tense. The boys all sat up straight, though Ivar had a shimmer in his eyes. He'd have loved to witness the fallout after last night. How much did he know about that, anyway? I didn't remember seeing him there.

Halfdan put his hand on mine. I smiled, knowing I'd have at least one ally to drink with tonight. Maybe if Harald wouldn't give him what he needed, he could move to Kattegat. We'd have plenty of civil unrest to quench in the coming years, with Bjorn's idiotic leadership. They'd count on me to use my position to help them out. Having Halfdan there to support me would make it more bearable.

A servant filled up a mug for me. 

"Oh, just water, please. I'm parched." I gave back the mug. Wine? Why had Bjorn taken it with him? Why had he thought to offer it tonight?

"I thought you felt better," Sigurd said. His eyes lingered on Halfdan's hand. 

I gave Halfdan's hand a squeeze and pulled mine back. "I've been thirsty all day, it's nothing to worry about. I just want to be careful, I misjudged my wound once already." He accepted my reasoning, but not before he glanced at my side. He was still worried, despite our talk this afternoon. 

"My scouts all came back," Halfdan said to break the silence. "They nearly reached York before they came back; there's no sign of activity yet."

That meant I'd get my two days. Aelle would need at least a week to get his army mounted if they hadn't gathered yet.

Bjorn shot me a look. "Hmm, that's good news. Ragnhild will have more time to heal." 

I narrowed my eyes. What was he up to? We had to get to Harald, was he really trying to double this dinner to convince me to agree to his stupid plan? We needed to draw Harald into our argument, preferably when it came to our marriage or life goals in general. Bjorn apparently meant to take a detour to there.

He didn't seem fazed at all. "You all must have heard the rumors. Turns out I married a Valkyrie in disguise." He had the audacity to smirk. 

"I'm not a Valkyrie," I snapped. I had to come out strong against this, or Bjorn wouldn't have enough wiggle room to let things get heated up. 

Harald snickered. "You should've brought her with you to the Mediterranean, Ironside. She would've slaughtered that city by herself."

I banged a fist on the table, rattling the mugs. "I don't plan on growing wings anytime soon, nor do I have royal blood; least of all the blood of Odin. How long have you all known me?" 

A servant brought me a mug filled with fresh water, then started doling out plates. Pork, again. At least it wasn't fish. 

"You took years to accept you were the Vessel of Freyja as well," Bjorn spat. "Do you mean to say that was a lie?"

"Come on auntie," Sigurd said. "Now is not the time to... To get..." He melted away under my death stare. 

"You need to accept this as part of your life," Ubbe agreed. "You know what will happen when we ignore this. It doesn't matter if you believe it or not, this could hurt us if you refuse to accept it. This is how the people see you, now."

He was right. If I'd hesitated, this would've drawn me over the line to play along. Ubbe had grown so much since his father had come back. I didn't like it one bit when he used it against me.

"This is about more than the campaign," I insisted. "Bjorn, you can't be serious. Do you not know what it means if I accept this?"

"I know exactly what this means, and what it will cost me." He almost snarled. "Do you think I'm happy about this?" Oh, sure. Now he understood the consequences of his lie. After I'd shared it with him, and he decided to -

I looked away, turning to face the entrance of the tent right behind Harald. He'd been busy with his own troubles. I had to focus on him, and not my own shit. Bjorn could wait for a day or two; Harald couldn't. I might have to kill him, for Thor's sake. 

"What do you have planned, Bjorn?" Floki asked. "You wouldn't call us here unless you had an idea." He knew both of us held back.

"We'll have to put her front and center in every battle to come. Seeing her from all corners of the battlefield will encourage the men to fight even harder."

Harald's mug lingered near his lips. "Everyone's been talking about a glorious battle with a Valkyrie by their side." He'd have to accept the might of the Lothbroks along with my role. His eyes told me he doubted me, but he thought it was for the best to play along. He wouldn't call me out.

If killing Vic was him blowing off steam, it meant he still could be a danger to us and Kattegat. 

"You both want to ruin my life? Do you think that title will disappear when we're back home? I have no intention of changing life as my children know it."

"Your children will be fine," Halfdan said. Why would he be the one to jump on that topic? "I agree with Bjorn, she should be visible from all over the field."

Sigurd's foot touched mine. Did he think it was an attempt to make me an easier target? The fact it crossed my own mind worried me. It was just as safe as having me ride with a bishop, dressed in blue. "I thought we were friends," I muttered towards Halfdan. 

"Exactly. This is what's best for you and your children. Don't tell me I can't be honest with you when it doesn't suit you." He believed it. His conviction poured from every ounce of his spirit.

We'd not been this open with our friendship, before. Harald and Bjorn glanced at us, both their eyes flitting from me to Halfdan and back. The boys were just as apprehensive.

"The last thing my children need is more people coming by and distracting me from raising them. Being the Vessel is enough of a disturbance." I'd have to start thinking about what to teach them first when we got back. Perhaps an overview of where we stood with what allies and enemies, to drive home how important this all was. 

"It's not just about you raising the children, though." Halfdan kept staring at me, convinced he could change my mind. He knew what was going on, but he chose to ignore the others. It was as good a strategy as I could come up with. "We talked about this, the men believe in you. I believe in you, so does everyone at this table." 

He confused me. I glanced at Bjorn, his eyes angry. He judged me for pulling this into the plan. Floki didn't know where we were supposed to be headed. The boys didn't know what to do, either. I had to break this open again, Halfdan was forcing me into a corner. I couldn't turn the conversation back towards Harald without drawing suspicion.

"Halfdan. I know you mean well, but I can't play at being a Valkyrie. Because I'm not one, and I refuse to lie to the gods."

He leaned back, defeated. I hated having to use this, but I had to pray on this before I made a decision, anyway. It wasn't a lie, just... Very convenient and cheap. It wasn't how I wanted to use my faith. 

"I won't pretend to be worthy of a Dragonfang sword. It's not my heritage, nor does Odin's blood flow through my veins. If all of you can't accept that I want to keep my children out of this, then accept that reason. The gods would curse me for feigning to be close to them." I needed to save the Viking from dying at the hands of Christians, not guide them to Folkfangr or fight battles against threats of Asgard.

"But auntie," Hvitserk said. "You must remember. I know I do, and my brothers will all agree. You were gifted a blanket once, that heralded your coming."

My eyes crossed over. Why had Bjorn even let it get this far? We should be springing a trap on Harald, not revisit old memories I'd rather forget ever happened.

"Yeah, I remember. You had wings," Ivar said, his eyes narrowed. He glanced around, getting an affirmative nod from Floki. 

"And those runes told us this day would come," Hvitserk continued. He reddened as he got more eyes on him. "What did they say again?"

"Entwined with hers are our fate and destiny," Ubbe said. He'd seen the blasted thing when I'd emptied a few chests he could have for his new home. "I remember translating it for you."

Sigurd took hold of my hand. "Coming to us like a Valkyrie." He refused to look me in the eye, remembering from years back. 

Hvitserk clutched the table with his hands. His fingers turned white. "If that's not permission from the gods, I don't know what is. Auntie, this is your destiny. The gods meant for you to be here, I was wrong to try and hold you back. This is the part where you're supposed to be a-" He caught himself just in time. This was not the time to sound like a four-year-old.

Ubbe noticed, too. "Mother warned us about this."

I shot Floki an anxious look, but he was torn himself. Bjorn didn't move a muscle, his face unreadable. Whatever he felt, he'd forced it down. 

"You said so yourself; if we end up losing here we'll all feel the consequences of that for decades. Hvitserk is right. The gods meant for all of this to happen. You coming along, Ragnar returning, the Seer foretold it all." Ubbe tried to look at me as Ragnar had; menacing, convincing, undeniable.

I'd wanted them to band together for years, and this was the moment they chose to unite and fight for, this was their common ground. Not even Aslaug's death had united them, and I had a feeling Bjorn was only here to keep the boys from doing harm to our alliances. "It's -" 

"We cannot speak for the gods," Floki interrupted. "Nor can you. It's not for you to say this is not what they want to happen." Traitor. He didn't even mean it. He was terrible at lying. His eyes didn't show the same fervor as his words did.

I leaned on the table, covering my mouth with a hand. We were still too far off from dragging Harald into this. Why the hell had Bjorn not interfered? Was I doing this by myself? "You people are impossible. You ask me to make a leap of faith and want me to jump in whatever direction you like best. It's not that simple." I stared at Bjorn, hoping he got the message. He was the one that had convinced me we could try and be allies. 

"You've taken stranger leaps," Bjorn countered. He wanted to challenge me; his head wasn't with the plan anymore. How had he grown so lost? Was this because he missed his father? Or was this because of Kol? He was beyond distracted, his face vindictive as he stared at me. We couldn't be allies. We were nowhere near friends. 

"Those were all for love." I looked down, staring at the wood. My fingers touched the same lines on the wood as Bjorn's. Even the table wanted me to agree to his stupid plan. It would be so easy to refuse just to spite Bjorn, but Ubbe had made some valid points. I'd have to consider it, at the least. I'd need to pray on this, soon. 

"Today you told me people do stupid things for love," Ubbe said. He sounded more like his father than before. Ragnar's preachy voice all but shone through, chastising me from the grave. "This isn't stupid, but it is for love. For our family, our kingdom. All those men and women out there." 

Sigurd put a hand on his brother's arm. Had he gone on much longer I'd have shouted at him to stop confusing me even more. This was between me and the gods, appealing to my protective instincts was a low blow.

"He's right," Bjorn said. His eyes had changed. "The things we do for love..."

I snorted, remembering where that had come from. "You have the worst timing." The way he behaved, not sticking to the plan, I'd push him out of a tower if I could find one high enough. He only saw me as a prop to get ahead. 

Harald cleared his throat. "Everyone knows you raised those boys as your own. Ubbe learned from the best. You have nothing to fear; the gods are by your side." That gave us nothing. Now he'd spoken up, we needed to pounce on Harald. 

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. "And what do you know about love? Did you even talk to that princess of yours since we came here?" I'd been too obvious. The boys and their theatrics had distracted me more than I'd liked. 

Harald frowned. "We talked, alright. It's none of your business. I know enough to realize those boys of yours love you more than she loves me." He finished his mug, then called out for a refill. 

He hadn't decided yet. He was still heart-broken; it was too fresh to know where he would be headed. Bjorn could suck a dick. I'd talk to Halfdan about it. That would bring me more than trying to interrogate Harald over roast pork. 

Halfdan belched, getting a refill himself. He refused to look me in the eye. Fuck. Had he seen this as a betrayal? Everyone knew Sif was here, but no one dared speak of it when those brothers were near. It was public knowledge, but the insinuation of my words wasn't. 

I chose to focus on my plate, letting the rest of the conversation take over. Bjorn tried to get Harald to say more, but he didn't get much further.

"Auntie?" Sigurd looked at me.

I kept my eyes on my plate, forcing myself to eat. "I'm thinking about what you all said."

"That's good to hear, but could you pass the salt?"

The vegetables could use some seasoning. He was right. I slid the small pot over the table. 

"I can't wait to fight by your side, auntie," Hvitserk said. He was nearly done with his plate. "I bet there's all kinds of things you can teach me."

I smiled for a second, then downed the water in front of me. I was still thirsty. "We'll see."

"Where do you guys think we'll fight? I kind of liked the terrain surrounding that camp."

Did the gods truly mean for this to happen? One man could easily be wrong, but eight? They all wanted me to play the part, all but Bjorn thought the gods had a hand in this. Who knew, Ragnar could be up there, pissed about having learned the truth. He could be taunting me from Valhalla and I'd never know. Aslaug and Vinh would talk badly of me. Ari would curse my name, as well. 

I'd seen Freyja with my own eyes, once upon a time. She'd stared into my spirit, right before I married Bjorn. Then at Uppsala, I'd ran into Váli. He'd come to me masked as someone else, but he'd dropped his disguise as he had walked off. The gods had been with me, there. And that strange woman who had braided my hair, she'd given me something to drink and then I'd been pregnant a few days later. 

"What do you propose? That we move the entire camp to get a possible advantage?"

The gods had been with me, back then. They had given me all kinds of signs since Ragnar's return. Was this another one? What did they expect of me? That I ran around dressed in their armor? We didn't have iron chest plates for men, let alone women. I couldn't fight with a sword. The more visible I was on the battlefield, the more likely it was the Saxons would know to target me. I had a child to protect.

My hands wanted to reach under my shirt. I still needed to ask Helga to make me clothes that were suited for battle. We'd have a few days until the fight. It wouldn't be leather, but it would at least cover my scar and most of my skin. I could try and talk to Halfdan in the meanwhile, maybe even tonight. At the least, I needed to talk about what just happened.

He finished his plate, listening intently to what was being said. I couldn't feign interest. Not when the gods were playing their games. 

"Out of the question!" Bjorn's voice shook me. He raged at Ivar, who looked just as angry. "You have not seen battle before, you don't know what it's like."

"Father wanted me to be in charge," Ivar growled. "I was by his side as he went for revenge himself. Only after you learned of his death did any of you join in."

"If you can't accept that I'm in charge, leave." Bjorn pointed at the skin. "No one will follow you. If you can't follow orders, go back home."

Sigurd leaned towards me slightly. I'd missed too much to add anything. Hvitserk and Ubbe shot me wary glances as well. This had to stop, it would do us no good to be this combative in front of Harald.

I cleared my throat. "If we could move this along, that would be great. I've somewhere to be."

"Is that so?" Ivar asked. "Did you even hear a word we said?"

"I didn't."

Ivar was easier to look at than Bjorn. The boy sat back at my confession, a smirk on his face. He knew me well enough to realize this wasn't the end of the discussion, yet.

"I don't care what the plan is, I'll probably end up hating it no matter what you do. Just tell me where I need to be with Phoebs. I won't be able to fight for the next few days, nor will I dress up as a Valkyrie when the gods don't want me to. Besides, if it takes more than three days, we'll have to change strategies again, anyway."

"I can settle on a strategy today and it will still work in a week," Bjorn grunted. 

"But it won't be the best. You promised those people out there a glorious victory. It's a wasted effort. We all know you only brought us here so those annoying brats could get me to doubt what I thought was certain. Now if you'll excuse me -" I rose up, but Sigurd put a hand on my arm. 

"You barely touched your food. You need to heal."

"I ate enough. I promise; I'll be fine." The pork had barely been cooked through, I'd munch on some dried sausage back in my tent. 

Sigurd kept his barrage of worried glances up. 

"I'm not done here," Bjorn said as I looked up. "I still have things to discuss with you."

A sense of dread filled my body. "I'm not in the mood to fight." It wouldn't be pretty, and it wouldn't get us anywhere. We'd fought for years. It was all we knew to do. Even when we tried to be allies, we failed. 

"Then try listening for once." He always said that right before he started shouting.

I rose to my feet. I wouldn't fall for one of his traps, not when they were this obvious. "I must insist. I need to pray." 

"Ragnhild!" His voice fluttered the blood in my veins. 

I froze, afraid he would hold me down if I would walk away. "I need to pray," I repeated through gritted teeth. "Besides, you can't threaten to put me on guard duty of the boats anymore."

"You promised you wouldn't interfere. It's the only reason I let you come in the first place." His eyes were cruel. He'd hurt me, one way or another. This went beyond putting me in my place. Bjorn showed me his true colors. It was a lesson I'd learned long before I'd gotten to Midgard; if someone shows you who they truly are, believe them.

I was done. No more fights. No more slivers of hope piercing my heart, it was over. Just this one fight to tell him I'd not bother him again. He could rule the kingdom by himself after Lagertha died. He'd have plenty of time to find a wife who would be more pliable. 

It would be best to get it over with. To not have the boys worrying about me past today. They needed to focus on the coming battle. They would have to go against him after this.

I glanced around the table. The boys were nervous, even Halfdan and Floki held their breaths. "If anyone wishes to leave, do so now."

The boys got up and left, Ubbe and Hvitserk carrying Ivar to make for a speedy exit. Sigurd lingered, but I kept my eyes on the table. He only touched my elbow.

"I'll come find you in a bit. Don't worry."

Halfdan and Floki nudged Harald enough to make things awkward for him. They also left, Floki casting me a warning look before he left. I nodded at the shaking serving girl. She audibly gasped as she got out. That's what we'd become. A terrifying force, ready to tear each other's throats out. This had to end. Every fight we had only worsened our position. I didn't want people to fear me, or him.

"Sit down. Finish your plate."

"I meant to retreat from the table. There's no reason for me to sit through these dinners. I can't help you if you refuse to listen."

"I don't believe you. You did this to hurt me. You made me look like a fool."

"The gods have been sending me signs, as I told you before. I need their guidance to make a decision. I wasn't lying, I swear."

"You keep telling everyone to trust you." His eyes were hard. He didn't believe me. He never would, because it wasn't what he wanted to hear. Part of him wanted to fight with me, the other was desperate to prove me wrong. We couldn't talk anymore. All we knew to do was fight.

"Are you saying anything different? They can't trust us both when we don't share the same message. I'm not the only one that's to blame for this, but this campaign is better off without me at the table. Be in charge, lead us to victory." I didn't care who got the credit.

"Why are you so calm?"

Would he accept the truth? He didn't know me anymore. He'd always think something else was behind it. He would never trust me again. It had gone, and there was no coming back from that.

The truth was the best defense I had. I had to get away from him without aggravating him even further. It would only make him more paranoid.

"I'm afraid you'll hurt me again. Please, just get it over with, whatever threat you have in store for me. I'll need a few days to recover if I'm to join in the battle against Aelle." Despair fought to take over. I pushed it down despite Floki's warnings. I had to be strong, even though I was giving up.

"You sound pathetic. You're giving up before it's even come to a fight."

"It's useless, anyway. There's nothing left." Tears welled up in my eyes. "You scare me. I don't know if it's safe for me to hate you. If the choice were mine, I'd take the children and the boys and never see you again. You don't even believe me when I tell you the truth. "

Bjorn shifted his weight to his left leg. "Is this some new tactic? It won't work."

"I'm tired. We've been at it for years. I refuse to fight any longer. If it weren't for the gods I wouldn't have been here. I know you lost your faith in them, but they're still real to me."

He stared at me. Had I gotten through to him? Would he let me leave? "I didn't lose my faith."

"You don't believe I'm a Valkyrie. You know all the mystery surrounding me has a reason, and what that reason is. The world has lost its magic. I get it. I ruined a lot of things for you." The gods had turned into an abstract concept for him; if he hadn't lost his faith yet he would do so soon. Before long he'd ask pointed questions about them, forgetting how to feel them as he'd taught me to do, once.

"Where's all this coming from? What are you trying to do?" He walked towards me.

I closed my eyes, not bothering to hide anything anymore. I'd stay true to myself, tonight. To the woman I wanted to be, that my children deserved. "Please, just get it over with."

Bjorn sighed, his breath passing through my hair. "I can't believe this. What has become of you?"

I looked down at his stomach. "I asked myself that same question for days, now. And all I came up with in reply is to wonder who I want to be."

"How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't matter what we've become, not really. We need to be better, both of us. I'm hurting more than I'm helping by staying. I thought of leaving for a while, but then you trapped me in Kattegat with that Valkyrie bullshit. I can't help the kingdom thrive when we're constantly fighting." I closed my eyes again, pushing back on the fat tears that wanted to roll down. "So, tell me. What should I fight for? What desire of mine will be fulfilled because of our bickering?" 

He stood in front of me. I stared at his chest, clenching my fists. Would he scream at me? Hurt me? My eyes itched, but I refused to rub them. They would leak. 

"I never wanted to rule. I hate it but it's my duty. I can't stop, and neither can you. I need you, the same way Ragnar needed Siggy."

I averted my gaze. "I can't be that. If the gods send me a sign, I could be a Valkyrie for you. But I can't become something I don't want to be. I'm too old to linger on hopes and dreams. It's time for them to come true. I need to make the most of what time is left to me now I still can."

"You sound like Ragnar before he set sail. Are you dying, too?"

I didn't know what to say. If the wound had healed wrong, it could burst open when my child would be born. All the time that was left to me, I wanted to spend it with the children. Teach them what I knew, pass on my wisdom. Keep them from making the same mistakes I had made. Love them with every shard of my spirit.

His hands hovered at my shoulders. "The wound. I knew it. Show me, how does it look? Please, I need to see it for myself." 

I held up my shirt. He'd force me if I didn't comply. It didn't make sense to fight him anymore; we'd never go back to how we were. The best I could hope for was to keep him from lashing out at me. It would save me time, at least. He'd gotten too much of my attention already. 

Bjorn unwrapped the bandages. He pulled on them hard, but I didn't voice a complaint. "Last night, when you cried out to me." Why did he pull this hard when he worried over me so much?

"Don't," I whispered. I didn't want to ask about his feelings. I wouldn't like the answer. 

He kept his eyes on the wrappings. "I have to. I can't let it go. The way you looked at me..."

"It was the hallucination," I insisted. "Like you said."

Bjorn's emotions were all over the place, had been all night. He put the bandage on the table, then got to his knees.

The Seer. He'd foretold this moment. Bjorn would go down on his knees for me. I'd find what I wanted here. But this wasn't what I needed anymore. I needed to go home, I needed to make amends to the ones I'd hurt. What I needed was elsewhere, and I'd found it here. I'd found back my goal, who I wanted to become. 

"It's okay, I'll be careful." Bjorn wiped away the excess salve Sigurd had put on, scratching over the red skin underneath. His eyes flashed up to mine. "I know it hurts, but I have to know what I'm dealing with. Sigurd made a mess of this, I'll need to clean this. There's this - is that a dent?"

"Just get this over with," I begged. His fingers scalded my skin, pushing and prodding and pulling at it as I desperately wanted to get away from him. But I stood frozen.

"This looks bad. You'll have to lie down, I need to get some things."

"I'll let Helga take care of it," I promised. I turned towards the exit. 

"No." His tone stabbed my heart. It brooked no argument. There was no space to negotiate or voice my opinion. This was him being a ruler, laying down the law. "Whatever they did, it's getting infected. Helga's not able to hurt you enough to heal you."

"She stabbed me with a glowing knife. Twice."

"You know what I mean. This needs to be taken care of well, just the once. Like pulling a loose tooth. Ragnhild, please. I don't want -" He sighed. "I need you healed, not dying of an infection."

I was trapped, forced to submit to his whims. I hated how weak I felt. After all the effort I'd gone through to be here, to have him notice me; all I got was pain and regret. I should've known. We had ruined each other. Ragnar had known. He'd warned me, years back, not to lose myself in Bjorn. He would always be my weakness. He'd always be able to hurt me like no other. I'd been too vulnerable around him for too long. 

He pulled me with him to his bed. "I promise, this won't take long." He rummaged around in one of his chests, pulling out a kit. I'd made it for him, years ago.

"I'll have to clean out that hole, and there's every chance it's got pus and blisters in there. Sigurd shouldn't have been that liberal with the salve. Did he even clean the wound before he put it on?"

Bjorn wounded me worse than he knew. I couldn't stand his touch, his closeness, or his help. He confused the shit out of me. I didn't want to know why, but I had to know what I was dealing with. "What do you want from me?" 

He pushed into the dent. The first part wasn't that painful, but then he hit the skin that lay hidden behind a piece of molten skin. "Shh, shh. It's okay. You'll be fine. I just have to - there we go."

I squirmed under his touch. "Bjorn. What do you want from me?"

Bjorn swatted at my hand. His wiping only got worse, until a pungent smell came from my side. Bjorn kept on wiping, sticking the cloth inside the dent.

"Unbelievable. Just what was Helga so afraid of? She damn near killed you. It's like it got wet and no one bothered to clean it properly. I swear, that girl has been nothing but trouble. What's her name again, Tanaruz?"

"What do you want?" I sobbed as I tried to breathe in. 

"Ragnhild?" Finally, he looked up at me.

I looked up at the ceiling. "You keep pushing me out, and then when we're alone you pull me back in. I thought I was imagining it. Can't you see how much it hurts? You got your divorce, now take it." I didn't feel ready for it, but I glanced at his face. He looked like I'd told him about the weather. 

I stared him down, but he kept his eyes on the wound, lapping at the outer rim of the dent. My dent. I never would've gotten it had he been any less stubborn. And then the money transport would've run into Hvitserk, most likely killing him. 

He knew I wanted him to look at me. He stared so hard at my wound without getting any closer to cleaning it, he had to. "I don't understand. I thought -"

"Take it. Take it! I can't do this anymore! You fought for it like Hel and you won! What more do you want from me!" I hid my face away in the nook of my elbow. 

"Calm down, please. The wound, it could open again."

"Then tell me what you want! Why do you keep taunting me!"

He touched the wound. I turned my head away, silently sobbing into the shaggy brown wolf furs. 

"I need to make sure I get it all out. Bear with me, please. Trust that I don't want you to die."

He asked too much. His hand found my lower abdomen. My eyes shot wide open.

If he knew... I grabbed at his wrist, but he held firm. He pushed down. Did our child have a heartbeat yet? What if he felt it moving? Did the gods want him to know?

He'd never let me go. He'd chase me until the ends of the earth. This child had changed everything, in the worst way possible. The image of us together, happy, cooing at our child rushed through my mind. I'd wanted that. I still wanted it. But it felt like betrayal, all the same. 

I'd been wrong. There was so much left to fight for. I had to keep my child safe. Bjorn would be there the day my child would be born. If not for me, then for the child. Bjorn would not let go without a fight, he'd wanted this child for years. I wouldn't let him exploit my weakness so he could make its life miserable as he'd done to Freydis and the twins. 

"There, all done." He leaned back, the stench gone as he threw the used cloths away. 

I wanted to roll off the bed, but Bjorn caught my shoulder. 

He gingerly let go of my arm as I stared at him. "I need to put a new bandage on it. Ragnhild, please. Five more seconds or I'll have to clean it again in the morning."

"What makes you think we'll see each other tomorrow?" If it were at all possible, I'd pick up the children and flee. How desperate would Bjorn be? Would he come after us? 

"You can't just stop ruling because you don't feel like it. I need your help getting rid of Harald." He straight up ignored me. Was he that insecure about my answer? Seeing him worry like this, he didn't even seem capable of making my life miserable over the child. How did he make it all so difficult for me, without doing a thing? 

This afternoon he'd been hesitant to get me on his bad side. Then over dinner, he'd been aggressive again. And now this? I didn't have the strength to pull an answer out of him. All I wanted was to hold my children, know they were safe. "Why? He's still undecided."

"Because I'm not taking any chances. I want you to take care of him during the battle."

"I can't, not without my bow. I'll talk to Halfdan, see if he's even a threat, to begin with."

"He was too calm by far. He knows Harald won't keep him from battle." Bjorn was insane if he thought I would kill both of them in the next battle. It would be too much of a coincidence without one of ours getting hit, too. Taking out Harald was already a huge risk. 

"Or he doesn't care. He's happy something is happening with Sif after all these years, and now he means to wait for the pieces to fall into place."

"You defend him like I'm talking about the boys."

No, I couldn't let it slide. I had to say something, Bjorn wouldn't get away from me this easily. He couldn't taunt me and not expect a response. I wouldn't let him draw me in, either. I had to keep him at a distance. I had to push him away so I'd have room to fight for the children. "Does it hurt? That I'm choosing him over you?"

Bjorn froze. His eyes slowly slid to mine. "Excuse me?"

"I'd rather be on the same ship as him than with you. After I came back from that camp, I spent the day with him. He saw me naked, down at the stream. He got hard as a rock, and I felt amazing because of it."

He focused back on the wound as if nothing had happened. He didn't push anything down like before. He even had the audacity to smirk as he applied a different salve, careful not to get any of it into the dent. 

I wouldn't let him get me angry again. He didn't deserve the pleasure of seeing me react. 

"I just need to wrap you up," he said as he put the salve back. The flap of his kit lay open. In the corner, a heart was drawn. I'd put it there. My heart pounded, skipped a beat, tore itself to pieces, then fluttered again. The ache shot out to my throat, halted by a flurry of butterflies just before it forced a sob from my lungs. I'd never felt this conflicted. The longer I looked at him, the worse it got. 

Bjorn wrapped the bandage tightly. He didn't take a second longer than he had to. "There, all done. Was that really that bad?"

I lowered my shirt and sat up. The bandage was tighter than before, but only on the skin below and above the actual wound. I'd taught him that. "You're more cruel than your father ever was." 

He sat down as I got up, leaning on my left hand. "Then why do you look like you found back your fighting spirit?"

"It's not my fighting spirit that makes me get up." From here on out, I could only lose more than I already had. Despair won out, urging me to get out while I still could. Bjorn would try and stop me again if I gave him a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exciting times have come for me personally, but unfortunately they mean bad news for you, my wonderful readers.
> 
> I've decided to cut down the amount of time I spend on this fanfic every week. It's no longer feasible for me to spend 40+ hours on editing and writing a week on it - and that's a conservative estimation. I will keep up with weekly posts on Tuesday for as long as I can, but I have more projects deserving of my attention. I'm about to start my own editing business, I'm working on a first book, and I have a writing blog to keep up with. (If you're interested in those projects, you can follow along on my Twitter page - the link is in my profile.)
> 
> What does this mean for you? At least until I manage to better balance my projects, I'll stick to posting 1 chapter per week. I don't want to write myself into a corner and drop the quality of this story, after all. You deserve only the best, as do Ragnhild and her boys. So it will be less to read each week, but still something each week to read.


	42. Here Comes The Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-05-815

"Ragnhild? Can I come in?" Bjorn's voice pierced the slow lull of a bored camp.

I rolled away to face the side of my tent. The furs almost hid me from sight. I couldn't face him after last night, after the nightmares and lying awake all night.

"Ragnhild. It's urgent. Are you sleeping?"

The skin rustled. He'd come in. I calmed my breathing, closed my eyes. Something heavy dropped on the floor behind me. His fingers stroked my hair. "Ragnhild? You need to wake up."

I lay frozen. He'd scold me if I admitted I was awake. Could I fake waking up? Why had he even come? I was too vulnerable, lying naked under the covers.

Bjorn's breath warmed my ear. He was right behind me. I could headbutt him if I jerked back now.

He touched my shoulder. "Ragnhild. I need your help. I'm fine waiting until you wake up, but the army is not." His fingers clutched the fur covering my shoulder.

Would he pull them back? I'd stab him in the face if he would. Already he was too close, too assuming.

"Are you even asleep? You used to wake up as soon as the kids did." He lowered the furs an inch. His breath wafted past my neck. "I'm serious, this is about the kingdom, too. Pam and Sif are looking for you."

I sighed, moving my hand underneath my pillow. Fuck. Where had the knife gone? It must've slid away. I couldn't feel around for it, now. How would I scare him, now?

Bjorn stopped his fingers. "What the fuck? You're naked? We're in a camp. Ragnhild. Wake up." He pushed at my shoulder. The furs slid down to my waist.

My eyes shot open. I swung my torso around, fist aimed at Bjorn's face.

Bjorn caught it easily. His eyes were huge, jaw clenched as he reached for my wrist.

My heart raced. Bjorn's hand lingered on his belt. His face reddened. He'd reacted on instinct, as well. "What the fuck are you doing here?" I jerked free and pulled the furs up.

"You attacked me?"

I couldn't stand his blue eyes staring at me. "I was asleep. I tried to attack the stranger who pulled my furs down. You crept up on me, why would you do that when you're not an enemy?" I hugged the furs tight, hating his lingering eyes. Was he ashamed, or was he staring? Had he noticed that my breasts had grown?

"I was talking to you. I thought you were faking."

I sighed. He'd been wrong to sneak in here, but I shouldn't have tried to scare him. Had that knife not moved, I'd have tried to stab him. This shit was getting out of hand. I was getting out of hand, the things I did to try and make things right only made things worse. "Why are you here?"

"Pam is looking for you. She wants an answer."

"Tell her to fuck off." I lay down again, looking at the side of the tent. I had enough on my mind.

"It's not that easy. She needs to hear it from a Valkyrie. You prayed to the gods, right? Sigurd told me."

Yesterday had been horrible. Sigurd had joined me as we'd ridden away from the camp. The wound hadn't bothered me, but before we even made our way to a quiet meadow, we'd seen a swarm of fireflies. This early in May they shouldn't have been out yet. But the swarm had lit up the whole field.

"I didn't even have to sacrifice an animal," I admitted. "The whole field was filled with those bastards." I'd play at being a Valkyrie. He'd be in charge of the plans, and I'd do as he said. It was the only way to keep my sanity. The phrase death before dishonor rang hollow.

Bjorn smiled. "Sigurd told me. Fireflies, like back in Uppsala. He'd never seen that many."

"I still don't like it," I muttered. The fireflies had lit up as I'd thought of Freyja. She'd sent them to me. That strange woman back in Uppsala, it had been her. Or at the least, she had sent her over. She'd known to send the fireflies at that exact moment. Not even my thoughts were safe from the gods.

Sigurd hadn't cared. He'd raveled in it, no empathy for the wars that raged inside of me. Having to admit defeat to him had been hard, but to say the same to Bjorn...

One step at a time. I had to make up for my mistakes, not just to the boys. Things had to change, and I had to take the first step. This was really happening. "Bjorn?"

He turned around and grabbed at something he'd brought with. "I got something made for you, I need to know if it's the right size." A gift? Why?

"That can wait. I need to tell you something." I kept staring at the side of the tent. I couldn't tell him to his face. Freyja would have to forgive me my cowardice.

"What is it?" His voice was thick with worry.

"I've been hard on you. More than I should've been. I'm sorry."

He kept silent. Did he wait for me to continue? Or was he surprised I'd brought it up at all?

"I feel like you keep pushing me as you've done for the past three years, and now I'm suddenly not able to push back. I reacted to that poorly. I'm not strong enough to keep my emotions out of this. We need to find a way to be adults about this, if only for the children."

"What do you mean?"

"The divorce. I won't be able to move to another place. We'll both play a part in our children's lives, which means we have to find a way to coexist."

"I - I thought you said you didn't want to help me."

Finally, I had the courage to turn around. Bjorn looked confused. "Siggy kept Ragnar sharp by being a constant threat. I can't keep fighting you. I'll be there for ceremonies, feasts and the like, but I think that dinner told us all we need to know. We can't work together anymore. We can't both lead, and neither of us will step down to be led."

He swallowed. His emotions dove down with it. Whatever he felt, I wouldn't see it, ever. "We managed to figure out what Harald was up to."

"Separately. We didn't work together. You are Lagertha's heir, so I'm bowing out. I'll help you where I can, but I can't be involved with any more plans. Don't you understand? You won. All I ask is that whatever happens, our children will rule after you."

His eyes scared me. They tried to pierce through my spirit, to the depths of where this came from. "We decided to talk about this when we get back."

"I can't wait that long. It's harming both of us to keep it lingering. You decide on the plans, I won't attend the meetings anymore. I wasn't lying last night."

"But - what of the house? We still have so much to discuss."

"We'll be fine. I hoarded some treasure of my own, and I can always sell those arrows Halfdan gave me. And I have that chest, remember? We already split everything else up. My mundr will suffice to make sure we won't starve anytime soon."

"Ragnhild, you've got to be joking. What about the market network?" He was desperate. Despite him pushing it down, he couldn't keep it out of his voice.

I didn't want to ask the question I didn't want an answer to. It didn't matter, as I'd made up my mind.

"I'll keep that up. Everything I hear will go towards Lagertha, any income from that as well." The gods knew Kattegat would need that income.

He sat down, leaning his arms on his knees. "When did you have time to figure this all out?"

"I've had lots of time to think, Bjorn. We've been headed for divorce a long time now. I think this agreement is fair. If you agree, it's done."

"I-Ragnhild, you're catching me off-guard here."

"If you need time to think, that's okay. I don't want to hurt you anymore. And I'm done being hurt by you." I straightened my back.

I was proud of how calm I'd gotten all of that out. There was so much emotion behind it all, all the worrying and hating and crying of over three years. Once he agreed, I could think of telling him about the child.

"I - I'll think about it. It's a lot to take in."

"I understand. I'm sorry it had to come to this. I thought I would be able to handle it better. You being in charge and all."

"You didn't make it easy for me. I'll let you get back to-it's almost noon, how can you still sleep?"

"I spent a lot of time lying awake last night." Nightmares, mostly. Another child dying in birth, hot knives stabbing in my stomach.

"Oh, right. Well, I'm going to, you know." He cleared his throat. "I'll see you around, I suppose."

"Yeah." I looked away, not sure how I felt, either. The package he'd brought caught my eye. "Oh, wait. You brought something for me?"

He veered up. "Almost forgot about that. Pam wants to hear it from your mouth. And since you'll play the Valkyrie now, you need to look like one."

I didn't understand. "We don't even have metal armor for men."

"I know, so I got Helga to work on the next best thing. She had to guess at your size, so if you need any changes... Anyway, here it is. Try it on. I'll get Floki to go with you, you can't meet Pam here in the camp."

He handed me the package. Clutching the furs with one hand, I unwrapped it. It was a dress, white as they could make it here. The cut reminded me of the one Siggy had made for me, years ago. The one I'd worn to get under his skin after he'd impregnated me.

My eyes flitted over at Bjorn. "Do you intend to stay here while I get dressed?"

He muttered as he left my tent. Only after the skin stopped moving did I get up from my furs. The wound complained, but I'd gotten used to it. The worst was when something moved past the tender skin. As long as nothing touched it, it was fine.

The dress was too restrictive to move around in freely, that much I gathered on first sight. I slipped it over my head, catching my hand in the sleeve. The neckline was too high. The skirt was too long and too constrictive, it kept me from running, let alone ride a horse. The rest was too billowing, easy for arrows to catch, or the tip of my bow. Helga would've known not to do that, this must've been Bjorn's doing. She'd followed orders.

"Helga!" I peeked my head outside the tent. She already got up, sewing kit in one hand, Tanaruz dragging her feet as she got pulled forward, too.

She came in, keeping back a snort as she saw me. "He's not very bright, at times. I wasted so much time getting it to his liking. I cussed him out for treating me like a slave."

The girl settled in a corner, pulling up her knees as she rocked herself back and forth. Even she didn't know what to make of this near sleeping gown I wore.

Helga pulled the skirt up. "About here, right? You'll need to ride. Does it need to be wider around your knees? At least the fabric is roomy enough." She shoved a pin through the fabric without waiting for my reply. "And those arms are just ridiculous. How are you supposed to shoot a bow? Those need to come off completely, glad I didn't spend much time on those anyways. He should've let me do this. I don't know what made him think he could design a dress for you, he's too stuck on this idea that you have to look like a modest wife. If anything, you need to be fierce."

She brought a smile to my face. "I knew I could count on you." This project had obviously taken her full attention. She didn't want to be scared anymore.

Neither did I. An warmth filled my heart. A whole weight was lifted from my shoulders. "Helga. I just told him my terms for divorce."

Her hands stopped fussing over the fabric by my neck. Slowly, her eyes met mine. "You didn't."

I stood a little taller. "I did. I'm sick of fighting him at every turn. As soon as he agrees, I'll tell him about the child." Giddy as a child, I kept my face under control.

Helga sighed, looking both sad and happy. "It's been a long time coming. You'll see, it's for the best. You made the right decision." She bolstered me like she always did.

"Freyja sent me plenty of signs, and I read them for what I wanted them to be. She helped me find my happiness back, once upon a time. She led me back to Bjorn. But he's no longer what makes me happy. I should've realized years ago."

Helga kept silent, her hands focused on the sleeping gown Bjorn had wanted me to wear. She stuck pins in the fabric, made a few cuts in the fabric, slid her hands over to make sure it would be tight enough.

"There's one more thing I need you to change," I said as she took a step back to admire her work. "The wound, I can't have the fabric scraping over it. I'll need to reveal more skin."

"He won't like it. He'll see it as a challenge."

"It's a necessity. I can't compromise my mobility because of him. Besides, I'll wear a cloth underneath so half my back will be covered, anyway."

She sighed, taking in my side again. "How would that even look? I can't walk after you to keep it all up."

"Cut off the entire back. Connect the sides with straps, above where the wound is."

Horrified, she rested her hand on my arm. "Ragnhild. You can't."

"It's the only way I can wear this without hurting every time I move." Even now, every scrap of fabric that passed over it flared up the pain.

"Can't you just wear a bandage underneath?"

"Not if I want to move around the way I should. I don't want to prance around half-naked either, but if it means I have a better chance of surviving and returning home, I will do it." I'd promised my children I'd go back to them. I hadn't disappointed them yet, and I wouldn't start now.

"At least you sound like yourself again. I still can't believe you are actually going through with the divorce. After you got wounded... I'll need your help if you want to have the whole back out. That's a lot of hems to go over."

"For now it's just about the shape, I need it today for that visit with Pam. I'll not end up in a fight before Aelle gets here."

We got working on the changes. Helga took off the sleeves carefully, pulling at the threads to untie it. I cut through the fabric on the back, slashing it all in straight lines.

The fabric curled up at the edges. I'd seen something like this before, back home. By the time Helga had taken off the first sleeve, I'd finished the back and looked at the skirt, imagining it cut it to ribbons from my thighs down. I'd want to wear decent underwear underneath it, regardless.

Helga grew more irritated every time she stole a glance at what I was working on. Tanaruz sat in the corner, not able to keep up her fear for long. Helga tried talking to her every now and then, but the girl only slid further into her shell.

She fingered something shimmery. I cocked my head, then realized what she'd found.

"Ah, Tanaruz found my knife." I got up and walked over, gently smiling. "I missed it this morning."

The girl looked absolutely horrified. She handed the knife back with shaking hands.

I didn't know what to make of the girl. If I'd reach out to her, she'd panic. She already thought I'd blame her for it turning up missing. If only we could understand each other. I couldn't even come up with a way to gesture to her that I wasn't mad. If only language was the only barrier we faced.

Helga watched us interact with joy in her eyes. "She found back your knife? How thoughtful of her, she's doing what she can to help." Satisfied, she returned to my dress.

Two hours later, most of the work was done. I loved the mobility it gave me now the back was cut out. It wouldn't be as warm as a halter top, but my wound being what it was, there was little else we could do.

"Siggy would've killed me if she saw me walk around in this." Calling this dress provocative was an understatement. Even in my time, it would've made some heads turn.

"Siggy has nothing to do with this. This isn't like before. Ragnhild, if you go out dressed like this, you're insane. You're practically inviting the whole army to feel you up."

"They won't dare," I promised. The dress was way too revealing for how confident I felt. I'd worn less fabric out in public years back, but this was different. This century was different. "If they dare touch me, they will never reach Valhalla. Everyone knows that. And besides, everyone expects me to lead them into a glorious battle. It won't do to dress like a princess. I need to look fierce, and strong."

"Right now, you mostly look naked. Some bear could've mauled you."

"Helga." Her eyes flitted up to mine. I stared at her, hard. It wasn't just about the dress. She stared back just as intensely.

"You can't stare your way out of this one. You'll need something more to make sure people fear you. If that's what you really want. Wearing white doesn't help."

"Then why not add some black? Do you have some kohl I could use?"

"It wouldn't help much."

"Not even if I cover my eyes like this?" I drew a broad stripe over my face.

She tilted her head, frowning as she imagined it. "It would help. I'm not sure if we have enough for it, but if you blacken your hands as well, that would work."

I stared down at my hands. The white band of skin on my ring finger would be covered up. It made my resolve to divorce Bjorn even stronger. Both of us needed to finally move on. I'd kept him by my side for too long. He deserved better, as did I. "That would be amazing."


	43. Both Sides Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 19-05-815

When Floki came to pick me up, Helga had outdone herself. She put the finishing touches on the black that covered my face, making sure the lines went on to my hairline.

He snickered as he saw my back. "You're pushing him too far, this time."

"I thought so, too," Helga said, her brows knitted together in concentration. "It's not like that. She needs to be able to move, and she can't have her wound covered if it hurts her." She wiped a wet piece of fabric over my hairline, then smiled.

I got up and turned around to Floki. He took it all in. The dress, my wound, the copious amounts of kohl on my face and halfway up to my underarms. "Bjorn came by this morning. I told him my terms for a divorce."

His eyes widened, then lowered to my stomach.

"When he agrees. I don't want it to influence his decision. He is the father, but if things end up as they have before, he won't play that big a role in my child's life, anyway."

"You don't know that." Floki meant to brush his fingers over my face. He caught himself just in time. "Bjorn loves the children."

"He loved me once, too. How long has it been since he spent time with them outside of training? Maybe it's for the best if he's no longer involved. It's only a reason for us to fight again." My arms felt awkward, slinging deliberately away from my sides, but I didn't want to stain the dress, not after all the effort Helga had put into it. "Come on, let's get going. I can't touch anything with my hands like this and it's making me nervous." 

I made sure the Kris knife was in place as Floki and Helga gave each other a quick kiss. It stung less, now that I knew Bjorn and I wouldn't go back to that again. 

Floki walked beside me as we made our way to the horses. He muttered, not liking the stares any more than I did. But I had an image to sell, a glorious battle to prepare for. "You might have oversold it. They're terrified of you."

"If they feared me, I would feel even more uncomfortable." I'd vowed to never be like my father, and so far I was doing a better job at that than Bjorn.

The path before us cleared as if someone had heralded our route beforehand. People looked up as they noticed a shift in the surroundings, hurrying out of our way. But one man refused to move. Floki wanted to move to the side, but I couldn't. He wanted to challenge me. 

His eyes lusted over what he saw, licking his lips as he took in my bared skin. "Don't you look adorable." He looked repulsive.

I stood still in front of him, four feet away. "Move aside, mortal."

"You're not a Valkyrie. I don't even believe you are the Vessel of Freyja." He turned around, arms wide as he called out. "She's a fraud! Ironside lied to keep us on his side!"

I had to teach him a lesson. Disarming him would not be enough. "Floki. Would you please step aside?"

"Just ignore him. He's no one." Floki meant to pull me along, but I didn't move. Grumbling, he took two steps back.

Would it be too much to slit his throat? A warmth spread through my veins. His blood dripping down my skin would finish my look. 

The man turned back to me. Knife on his left, sword right. Left-handed. Interesting. No armor to speak of. Slight swagger in his step. Inebriated? His eyes were clear. Old injury, left knee.

"What's this? Won't you defend yourself?" He laughed, trying to pull the gathering crowd in.

I had to do something, and fast. The crowd stared, but some of them scoffed or even smiled. "Move aside, mortal. Or I'll kill you."

"Without a bow? You can't hold a sword, or were you planning on poisoning me?"

The crowd grew restless. Someone offered me a sword. "I don't need a weapon of my own to kill you. I ask a third time, step aside. Or I will kill you." A mere humiliation wouldn't do. He had to die, for the good of the army. I'd have to let the bloodlust take over, trust that I would be able to stop it before anyone else got hurt.

"That's it. You arrogant cunt, I'll show you." He drew his sword, swinging it around to impress me.

I stood perfectly still, taking in his movements. I focused on his blood. It would warm my skin. He deserved to die. He was a danger to my child and the boys.

The bloodlust rose up, widening my veins, guiding my eyes. My fingers itched to attack. I sank down, ready to lunge out at that arrogant piece of shit. Two steps to reach him. Then I'd block his wrist with an elbow before he could swing that sword. Punch his jaw from underneath. Pull his sword arm close and throw him over my hip. Use his sword to keep him on the ground. Slowly slide it in as he begged me to stop.

I cocked my head, smiling. He raised the sword up to strike. I took the first step. His sword was at its apex. The second step. His face wrought. My elbow rose up.

He flew back. My fist hit empty air. I stood up straight, confused how the man wasn't ready to get punched in the jaw.

"You fucking idiot!" Halfdan slung the man to the ground. "The fuck's wrong with you! Are you blind? She would've killed you, asshole." His eyes found mine. "Maybe I should've let her."

"Bold move, Halfdan." I stepped towards him. "Friend of yours?"

"One of ours. Not all of them use their brains."

"Let go of me!" The man got to his feet, jerked at his shirt to pull it straight. "I'll get that bitch," he growled.

Halfdan kicked his sword back. "Shut the fuck up, Stew. Or I'll kill you myself."

The man had no desire to die today. Muttering obscenities, he picked up his sword and walked off. The crowd dispersed, muttering as well. Stew might just have caused more people to hesitate on my legitimacy. 

"You should've let me kill him," I whispered. "He challenged me; I had to show these people I'm a Valkyrie."

"You don't know shit about close combat. You would've died." He'd meant to protect me? Why would he think I'd need it? He'd challenged me, too. That man had deserved to die. Halfdan had stood between me and justice.

"I'd have him on his back, sword splicing his throat in seconds," I hissed. 

Halfdan took half a step back. "If you say so." His hand lingered on his knife.

Fuck. I had to be more careful. I looked away, taking a deep breath. "I have to get going."

"Are you sure that's a good idea? I've never seen you this... It's a demon, isn't it?"

"That's one way of looking at it."

Floki put his hand on my shoulder. "I'll keep an eye on her." He nudged me to walk with him.

"You have some explaining to do," Floki said sternly. "I thought I had made myself clear."

"Not in the camp," I breathed. Trusting the bloodlust had been a mistake. It had gotten me into trouble again, with Floki no less. We'd barely made up.

Phoebe noticed I was restless. She shied away from me, but Floki had no patience. I followed him out of the camp, pulling on the reins to get Phoebe to keep pace. My voice soothed her, if only a little.

"No one can hear us," Floki said when the camp was barely in sight anymore.

"I thought I could control it. It's not like before when I just didn't feel anything at all."

He spat at the ground beside him.

"Please, hear me out. It's like — I suddenly see everything, notice every detail. It helped me survive after I got wounded. You know that rush you feel when you're in battle? It's like that, but — I don't know. It comes up every now and then. It helps me fight, it kept me alive."

"How long have you had it?"

"Since..." I couldn't lie to him. "Ever since I killed that Lawmaker. Then again when I had Lagertha kill Frida." My arms brushed against my dress. 

"I knew it. You've been lying to me for years. You're the reason Helga is scared."

"I killed them for what they did to me. I'd never kill her, she is the one person who stood by me through it all."

"And you never wondered why? She's been scared of disappearing or dying for years. I finally convinced her to live, and then she pulls this child with her on our way back to the ships. This is all your fault."

I took a deep breath. "I couldn't have known it went this far. How was I supposed to? I may have caused it, but that doesn't mean I'm the only one to blame. Lagertha wasn't there for her, nor was Torvi. Even you kept your distance. We all failed her."

He brooded as the horses brought us further from the camp. We passed by the torn down inn, then kept following the coast. Floki's anger simmered until his muttering suddenly stopped. "I don't want you going that far again, ever."

"I can't promise that. It saved my life once before. It helped me avenge my son. There may come a time where I'll need it again. To keep myself safe, or those I love. I won't make you a promise I know I'll break."

"It hurt Helga. You lashed out at me once, with that—those weird emotions of yours. You either feel too much or not at all. If I'd known it would cause me this kind of trouble, I'd never have—" He turned away.

"You'd never have befriended me?" I asked softly. "I know I've been a mess, lately. I'm trying to break out of that, but shit like this keeps happening. You must've noticed that I'm trying to make things right again. It takes time. Not everything goes as I want it to, and not everyone is ready to hear me apologize." I looked down at my hands. The black smudged on the reins, some black smears covering my dress, too.

Floki looked back to the road when I caught him staring. "It's too much. The kohl."

"Without it, I look harmless."

"You look ridiculous either way."

"I know. But I have to dress up. I can't deny this is what the gods want."

A soft twinkle returned to his eyes. "How so?" He already knew. He always knew, and yet he wanted to hear it from me, in my own words. 

"Freyja sent more signs. How much farther is it?"

"Not much longer."

"I'll tell you all about it on the way back. I need a moment to prepare."

We rode on in silence. Pam and Sif were already waiting, as planned. They got up from the log they sat on, Sif worrying over any smears on the back of her dress. Pam's angry face sprang up as we approached. My outfit did little to deter either of them.

"You're late," Pam said.

Floki made to get off his horse, looking just as annoyed as she.

"Don't bother," I said. "This will be short. Pam. I suggest you listen carefully because I shall only say it once. Shut up. Sit down. This is between me and Elisif." I stared at her, my eyes hardening the fiercer she stared back.

"You don't keep a princess waiting," Pam countered. "Who do you think you are? We've been here for almost an hour!"

I turned to Sif, instead. 

She looked mortified. "Pam, please."

"No, this is unacceptable. They should give us those horses and walk back themselves. You nearly got sunburned! We don't even know if she'll accept our ask, this is beyond rude."

"Princess Elisif," I cut in between, my voice loud and booming. "You asked to see me?"

Sif shifted her attention to me. "Oh, yes. I—Pam, please. I wished to ask—"

"Forget about her. I'll bury an axe in Harald’s head myself."

I pulled on the reins, ready to turn back to camp. Phoebe stopped foraging and turned her head to the right. "If you can't control those that serve you, why should I bother with you?"

"Pam! No, wait, Ragnhild. I need your help, please."

I halted Phoebe's movements. My eyes were trained on the trees up ahead.

Sif walked towards me, standing close enough to touch me. "My husband was killed by Harald Finehair. Will you take him to Folkfangr, in the coming battle?"

Pam tried to get to Sif, but Floki blocked her path with his horse.

I looked down at Sif. "Did you promise Harald you would marry him?"

"I–I did."

"And did you wait for him, as you said you would?"

Her shoulders dropped, her eyes finding the patches of grass beneath us. "No."

"You broke your oath to him. You brought this on yourself. Why should I solve your problem for you?"

She glanced back, but Pam finally sat down on the log again, keeping her mouth shut. It had been her idea, for them to come to me.

"Do you think Harald deserves to die because you broke an oath?"

"He took too long." She didn't believe it herself.

"You married six years ago. How long do you think it takes to conquer a country like Norway? If you didn't want to wait more than four years, you should've set him a simpler task. Is there anything you can say that might convince me Harald deserves to die?"

Sif pushed her lips together so tightly they disappeared.

I turned Phoebe around, not bothered to see what Pam was up to. Floki joined me. Only when we passed a bend and they couldn't see us anymore I shot him a look.

"That's not what Bjorn wanted you to do," Floki said. His eyes flitted from me to the road to the sky above. 

"I don't want them to think I'll kill him because of them. He can still die during the battle." Had I done the right thing? Killing Harald because of this, with me being a Valkyrie, it made sense. It was the smart thing to do, but somehow I'd decided against it. At least I had taken care of that problem. Only 98 more to go... Leaving Harald alive was a choice, and from that choice would come consequences.

"Ragnar would've been proud."

I smiled. It wouldn't do to fret over every choice that came my way. I'd been there before and had forgotten how to live. At least back then I'd had faith in myself above all else, misguided as it had been.

"I know I owe you a lot of explanations."

Floki looked ahead, pensive as his body jerked back and forth with his mare. He'd never learned how to ride properly. No wonder he hated it. "You make me wary when you do things I don't expect."

"It's all because I want to keep my children safe. They're always on my mind. Even coming here, I wanted to be sure that Bjorn wouldn't lash out about our child before we get back. I know what's at stake here."

"Hmm? So you knew it could've gone both ways?"

"Yes." I looked up at the cloudless sky. This was rare weather for England. "Either we would heal, and he'd return to me, or I'd say goodbye for good. He needs to make a choice that's not hindered by this child. If he wants to try just because of it, we'll end up right back where we started. I gave him a chance. He's done nothing to convince me he still cares about us that way."

"You do realize what that means for the child?"

"If Bjorn agrees, it'll be a bastard. It will wear my name, and if it's a boy, it won't have a right to the kingdom."

"You can't keep it from him. He has a right to know about the child. He deserves a chance to try, as well."

"Had I not kept him from divorcing me before, he wouldn't have known until it was too late. The only reason I'm with child is that he tried to scare me. He thought that I'd crack and grant him his divorce if he threatened to actually do it."

"You mean..."

"He held me down against the ground. If it wasn't for Lagertha, he just might have. But the gods are cruel, Floki. It's uncommon, but it happens. So, no. I don't think he has a right to know about this child before the divorce."

"You let Siggy believe that you had sex?"

"Everyone believed it. Lagertha and Bjorn knew it would hurt all of us if it came to light. I must insist that you keep this to yourself. If the twins hear, they'll never want to speak to their father again."

"You know how hard it is for me to keep a secret."

"And still, you deserve to know. You know what's at stake when you slip up. I trust you, Floki. It'll be hard to keep secret, but it's only until Bjorn agrees. Then I'll tell him about the child. I promise."

"If he knows before the battles, he'll keep you back."

"Not that there's much to worry about," I sighed. "I'll be lucky to kill even one other Saxon this summer."

"You look forward to killing that much?"

Realization dawned on me. That was not what I'd wanted to imply, though it was true. "I look forward to helping us win the battle. If we can return most of their men back to their farms and hovels to help support their families, I'll consider the victory that much better. That bloodlust hasn't changed me. I'm still me. It only comes up when I see blood, and I've learned to keep it back most of the time. I came out of Uppsala with no one the wiser."

"Uppsala? That's when you first killed an animal."

"I fought to keep it down, that day. I still remember how proud Bjorn was of me, back then. It convinced me that the bloodlust wasn't all bad, but that I needed to learn how to control it."

"What else do you remember of that day?"

I shrugged. "Midsummer was a day early. Hvitserk told me. And I helped–I ran into a god. I forgot what he said, but when I came to, I lay at Odin's feet. Bjorn picked me up."

"The priests blessed you, during the ceremony. Do you remember what they drew on your face?"

I tried to remember. They had all been silent, while Bjorn had gone on with his long line of animals to slaughter. One of them had dipped their finger in the blood and had drawn on my face.

My breath caught in my throat. That had been Freyja.

"That priest drew the symbols of a Valkyrie. The gods blessed you. I thought it meant you would keep fighting for us, but now I see the truth. The gods knew you would be our Valkyrie."

"No, Floki..." Not even more of this crap. The gods had no business micromanaging my life. It wasn’t faith if they kept sending me so many signs. Other people spent their lives waiting for a sign, they came to me and thought everything I did could be a sign. 

"It's true. He blessed you, the gods are with you."

"It wasn't a man." I forced my breath to become steady. "I wasn't blessed by a priest. I thought it was one at first glance, but, her fingers. I think they belonged to Freyja herself." I looked down at my hands. They hadn't been that different from hers.

"Ragnhild? What are you saying?"

"I don't know," I breathed. "That man I spoke to, I'd seen him before. His hair changed colors in front of my eyes. He left a skin behind, he said it was the Mead of Poetry. Sigurd drank from it and ever since he learned to play the oud as well as any skaldr, without being taught. What did he do to me?" It didn't make sense. None of it did. 

"Whatever it is—Ragnhild, calm down—it's a good thing. The gods found their way back to you. You were lost to them for years, but they know where to find you, now."

"That doesn't even make sense," I snapped. That feather was supposed to keep me safe for years to come. But how did I know that? "I'm serious, Floki. This is messed up. I don't... What do I do now?" They'd been involved in my life from the start. Even my markings, it couldn't be a coincidence. From before I came here? It didn't make sense.

"You let the gods guide you. They have always taken care of you. They gave you a child when the world thought you barren. And now for a second time, they have blessed you."

"You don't understand," I said, fighting the tears that came up. "Freydis wasn't a miracle. She is, but not as everyone thinks. After her birth, we just... I was so worried, about everything. I didn't want things to get as bad ever again. I was terrified of dying in childbirth. Even now, I have nightmares about how it all was. I barely feel rested in the morning."

"Bjorn told me."

I sobbed, fighting against the tears. It would ruin the kohl, I'd look a mess. I had to look pristine when I got back, or everyone would know this was just an act. "If he told you, why didn't you scold me over it?"

Floki cocked his head. 

I sat up, the tears dying down. "Floki? What did he tell you?"

"He said you lied to him, about Freydis. Did you not cheat on him?"

I groaned, so many things falling into place. Floki had always defended Bjorn whenever I'd brought up his cheating.

"Floki. Freydis was conceived in Uppsala. I refused to sleep with Bjorn the moons before because my periods were returning. I couldn't explain it in a way he wouldn't hope for another child. He's always wanted more. It's why we were both so tense. I thought he wanted to choose a second wife, and then he told me about that plan to bring a child back from Scotland. But then we found out I was pregnant before you set sail."

Floki squinted, trying to make sense of it all.

"He left me because after Freydis, I didn't want to get pregnant again. At first, Bjorn thought I was still sore. Then I kept breastfeeding her so I wouldn't get pregnant again. He confessed that he’d been looking at other women when she was one year old. I had to do something. So I started drinking yellow tea, each moon."

"You didn't. Ragnhild, what did you do?"

"He moved out the same day he found out." I didn't dare look Floki in the eye. "He never let me explain."

"You foolish, stupid girl. What on Midgard could possess you to do such a thing?"

The despair I'd felt back then rushed through my nerves again. It was hopeless. My fear of dying overshadowed everything. This little sprout could be the end of me. It had to be a girl, Freyja had to keep me from dying in birth. "I didn't want to die. I didn't want to risk losing it all when we had so much already."

"You lied to him. For years." The disappointment in his voice stung. "How can you expect him to ever be okay with that?"

"The past three years, all I wanted was a chance to explain myself. All he heard was that I didn't want to have another child. But the truth is, I was terrified of carrying his son again. Kol, he–he was too big for me to give birth to him. Another son would tear me apart again. It's got to do with that heredity stuff, like eye colors. Size and height work the same way. I know it makes me a coward."

"Do you even hear yourself? You've had years to think about it, and still, you don't understand? You blame him for losing your son. You blame him for wanting to kill you. Before he's even done a thing, after you lied to him for years."

I looked up in surprise. "It's not like that."

"That's what you're saying. When did you forget how to listen?"

"I'm terrified, okay? Now I'm carrying his child anyway, like it's some cruel joke to the gods. Every night, I dream that I die. That my child dies. What if that wound tears open during the birth? I don't want to die, Floki. I need to be there for my children."

"You were scared before you lost your son." Did he imply that it was my fear that had caused his death?

I threw him a dirty look. "Excuse me?" 

"Your fear now is different, but it still hurts those around you. You've always asked too much of Bjorn, and now you mean to have him decide over a child he doesn't know is there. Tell him. He has a right to know, before he dooms his child to be a bastard. You know that's not what he wants. You two have held out for years, what's another few months to save your child from a cruel fate?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." I guided Phoebe to a gallop.

"Because I'm making sense!" Floki yelled after me.

He was right. Deep down I knew it, but I couldn't think about it. I couldn't bear the guilt of this, too. Bjorn was patient as the norns with me. Even when he didn't know what was wrong with me, and I'd only made things worse. It was all my fault. I deserved to feel this lost and empty, and so full of regret.


	44. Riders on the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23-05-815

Aelle still hadn’t shown his face. The camp grew restless. Helga had happily worked on finishing the dress with me, but for days now, Floki’s words rang through my mind. If what he said was right, our problems had started long before I'd lied to Bjorn. I hadn't felt like I could speak the truth. I'd been so busy getting him to listen to me, explaining myself... 

"Are you sure you’re fine?" Helga asked. 

I wiped a tear from my cheek. My eyes felt dry from all the crying. "I can’t afford the distraction. Please, just–don’t you have a story of the gods you can tell me?"

"Plenty. You know them all, same as me. Why won’t you tell me what’s wrong? You were so confident when you went off to Sif, what did Floki say?" 

I hesitated. I had kept too many secrets for too long, but I still couldn't make any sense of this. I always thought about things on my own first... And this is where it had gotten me. "He told me it’s all my fault. That we got divorced in the first place."

"I’ll talk to him." Her voice was deadpan. 

"No, you won’t. I can handle this myself." I had to, or I'd fall for the same trap again. This was between me and Bjorn. Having other people involved wouldn't make this any easier. 

"Then find something else to hang onto." She tied off a thread, tearing through it with a small knife. 

"The children. When we said goodbye, Freydis told me to come back and still be her mother." As if I’d been fit to give her what she'd needed the past years. She needed me to be better. All four of them did.

"That’s… Eerie." Helga kept her eyes on the dress. 

"She has a gift. I think she’s a Seeress."

"I’ve never heard of one that young."

I stared at my hands. The white ring of skin on my finger would soon be covered with kohl again. "If it’s true, she’s more gifted than Aslaug ever was. And she makes a lot more sense than the Seer. He’s just… Something’s off. He was wrong about things in the past."

"Maybe his premonitions haven’t come true yet. You know how that works."

"Do you truly think Lagertha will set foot in England again? If that was her being happy, I’ll eat my shoes."

"The gods work in mysterious ways."

I bit back an insult. Helga didn’t deserve it. She was too good for this world, everything I never would be. When had I become so jaded? "That they do. I just hope we’ll all make it back in one piece."

"Here, try it on." Helga held up the white dress. It didn’t look like much, but once I wore it, I’d change into a mythical being. She was that good. 

"You're amazing." With a smile, I undressed and put on the dress. Helga helped pull it over my head without getting caught in the strands. Her deft hands kept my cloth in place as she tied a knot in the back of my neck.

I shook my limbs, eager to see how well I could move around. The fabric was rougher than I'd have liked, but we didn't have the luxury of cotton. I could move my shoulders freely, it felt fantastic.

Tanaruz shot me a wary glance from her corner but didn't make a sound. The look in her eyes reminded me of Ivar when he was silent. She absorbed everything around her, but never let on that she understood anything. 

I hoped I was wrong. If that girl would turn out to be violent, Helga would bear the brunt of it. Tanaruz looked away as she caught my eye. She wanted to survive, just like I had back when I was a slave.

"You remind me of Hjordís."

"Hmm?" I turned back to Helga. "Hjordís?"

"The wife of king Sigmund. She was pregnant with his child when he finally died in battle. She knew what to do. When her son was born, she named him Sigurd."

I rolled my eyes. "Why are you comparing me to Aslaug's grandmother?"

"Hjordís was valiant and strong. She didn't wield a weapon, but still, she was strong."

"And her son was an idiot," I snapped. "He may have slain the dragon Fafnir, but he let himself get caught in a seidr." Aslaug had been three years old when she'd finally seen her father again, only to have her parents kill each other for honor. "I don't see how this has to do with Hjordís, or how I look."

Helga leaned back. "You look worthy of choosing a king."

I swallowed. I wasn't ready to think about that. Bjorn hadn't responded to my terms yet. I was still married, and that kept the earls at bay. Without him, I'd be swamped in marriage proposals. I needed time to recover before even contemplating finding someone else. Maybe, for now, this stalemate between us was a good thing.

"I hope you mean someone other than Harald."

"Of course I do. I'm trying to give you a compliment." Her fingers pulled on the straps so hard I had to step back. My Kris knife bounced against my thigh, still snug in the sheath of the hem.

"Helga?"

"I'm stressed out, okay? Tanaruz is barely eating. Floki's not helping with taking care of her, either. I don't know what to do. Are you sure you can't talk to her? You seemed to get somewhere when we just got here."

I really didn't want to. Helga was too dependent on her, and feeding into her delusion would only make it worse. I was to blame for most of this, already. But I couldn't refuse her after making me this gorgeous dress. "I'm here for you, whatever you need."

She smiled, beaming at Tanaruz. The girl feared what was to come.

A horn blew off in the distance. Dread filled my body.

"Auntie!" Sigurd was close.

Aelle was here. He'd sneaked up on us.

"It's started," I whispered. It was time to prove that the gods had been right to make me a Valkyrie. "I'll talk to her after, I promise."

Helga nodded encouragingly. "Protect him."

A shiver ran through my spine. That was the kind of love I'd missed from Bjorn all these years. "I'll do my best."

Sigurd called out again as he burst in. To his credit, he didn't look panicked. 

"How much time do we have? Helga still needs to do the kohl."

"It's either the kohl or hearing about the strategy." His flushed face looked too serious for a boy his age.

The camp was in a frenzy. Everywhere men scattered to find their shields and axes. How had Aelle come this close? Sigurd pulled me with him, not caring about my shorter legs. "Hurry up, we don't have much time."

"I gathered. Didn't anyone know they were coming?"

Sigurd glanced back, smirking. It had been intentional? Was this part of turning this into a glorious battle?

Once we entered Bjorn's tent, Hvitserk pulled me towards a corner. He looked as giddy as his brother. The place was deserted, otherwise.

"What's going on?" I couldn't hide a smile.

"We get to fight by your side today," Hvitserk said as he bent down. He drew a cloth from a bucket.

My face fell. The blood inside of that thing smelled rancid. "What is that?"

"Pig's blood." Hvitserk hoisted up a ladle of the stuff. "It's for you."

My stomach churned. "And when was this decided?"

"We don't have time for this," Sigurd said. "We're in charge of the right flank, Bjorn and Ubbe are on the left. Floki and Ivar will form the vanguard." That wasn't a coincidence. Ivar must've been causing trouble again. "Harald and Halfdan will close them in."

I pulled a face as Hvitserk dripped the first batch of blood over the pristine dress. Helga had labored endlessly to get those few black marks off, and now this? "A simple pincer move? He thinks that's going to–you know what, I don't want to finish that sentence." Not seeing Bjorn on a daily basis had been good for me. Dinner with Helga was far more pleasant.

"It's not like we can change the plan at this point." Sigurd retied his belt. 

"And this rushing is intentional?" I asked. My breakfast almost made a comeback. It was the smell. It had to be, it would be terrible to have my morning sickness show up. It was the blood. Pig's blood. Cold, but it slowly saturated the fabric. I'd replace it with warm blood, soon enough. I shook my head.

"Sort of, yeah. Bjorn wanted to lure them to terrain that we know."

A tactical feint... Not bad, unless it didn't work. Then it could be disastrous. Bjorn took more risks than I would've done. He would go for the terrain where the camp used to be. First contact had already been made. Now it was a scramble to get everyone in place on time.

"Ugh, that smell is horrid." I pushed my hand against my nose. Sigurd and Hvitserk weren't nearly bothered as much as me. Fuck. These were hormones. "Sigurd, I need you to do something for me. Put your finger in that blood."

He looked abhorred. Was it still bothering him? He promised me he was over his fear. "Why?"

"Because you need to recreate a blessing Freyja once gave me. No, don't pour anything over my face. Trust me, this will work." 

Sigurd drew a line down from my bottom lip, a drop of blood making its way past my throat. He added three dots in line with my nose, then added a smear from my left eyelid outward. As I opened my eyes, he recognized it.

"Uppsala. That sacrifice," Hvitserk mumbled. "I thought they were smears."

My eyes tore in his direction. "We don't have time for this now. We need to get going. Do I look sufficiently bloody?"

"Yes auntie," they said.

I scowled at them, then thought better of it. If Bjorn counted on us being faster to pull together, I had to be a part in leading us all there. We rushed through the crowd on our way to the horses. Some stopped to gawk, others picked up the pace. I ignored them all, head held high. No one dared block my path this time.

Phoebe was ready for me, again laden with the quivers. I closed my eyes before getting up. Had no one thought of this? I'd mentioned it to Bjorn, Floki knew about it, and I'd lamented the loss of my bow plenty of times. "Boys? I can't use these arrows without my own bow. Which I can't use right now."

Sigurd cursed under his breath. There was no time to waste. I pulled the Kris knife from the hem of my dress and slit the leather thongs. Phoebe whinnied as the ballast fell away from her back. She shook out her mane, ready for battle.

"We need to get you a bow," Hvitserk insisted.

"No time. If someone gets close, I'll be armed this time. I can't fight, anyway." I pulled on Phoebe's reins. With my wound still throbbing as I moved too fast, I didn't have much hope of being able to fight, anyway. Not that Bjorn had bothered to check in. This might've been his plan, but he hadn't prepared for everything.

We raced off, darting past the warriors that had to get to the field on foot. The warriors cheered us on from behind, calling out in celebration. What kind of hype had Bjorn built around me? What if I couldn't deliver?

I shook my head. This was battle. I wasn't a mother, or a ruler, or a Valkyrie. This was about Ragnar. Aelle had killed him, and there was every chance Aelle would be on the battlefield himself. We needed to capture him, that was all that mattered.

My voice joined that of the warriors. "Avenge Ragnar!"

"Avenge Ragnar!" The cry carried over in the long line of marching men, a handful of women scattered in between.

"Boys," I said in a low voice. "Are we certain Aelle only has the one force? What if he's keeping a second force back to take us by surprise?"

"Bjorn already thought of that," Hvitserk said. He looked too confident by half.

"Hvitserk." He glanced over, the smile running away from his face. "I asked you a question."

Sigurd cleared his throat. "Bjorn wants our flanks to keep an eye on that, move towards the second force if they show their faces."

"Hmm." That would require sophisticated communication from our flanks. Hvitserk wouldn't be able to keep track of it. Ubbe was too inexperienced. Sigurd was too inexperienced. Bjorn expected us to work together. He wanted to force us to overcome our issues, in the heat of battle.

Fighting had always come easier to him than talking. If I ignored his words of late and focused on his actions...

This wasn't the time. I had to perform, my head needed to be with the battle.

"Very well. That means I'll be in charge. How many men do we have?"

"A little over 1500," Sigurd supplied. "Mostly archers."

"Good. We'll have them shoot off every arrow they have before they can switch to their swords." If only I had my own victims to shoot. My fingers itched. Phoebe increased her pace. Both of us were restless.

The terrain was empty when we got there. No one dared venture on the field just yet. Everyone hid in the trees that surrounded the field on three sides. Aelle would come from the main road to the east. The charred remains of the camp lay towards Bjorn's side. He'd have to navigate them carefully, he'd be best able to do so.

This plan of his just might work. I hated to admit it. He would be fine without me. His side showed the careful build-up of a force, men falling into line. We'd have to get the men in formation, as well.

"Hvitserk. What earls are under my command?"

"Err... They're all from the Mediterranean."

"The ones least believing in you," Sigurd clarified.

"Ah. Yes, of course. Jarvick, Gerhart, Torval." I narrowed my eyes. "And Wendt?"

"Rein and Waldemar."

"Waldemar?"

"Rein evened it out better. Waldemar won't dare go against you. Bjorn suggested you keep him close."

"Your brother is an idiot. Find Waldemar and bring him here." I kept my eyes on the trees on the opposite side of the field. Why had Bjorn told Waldemar to gather at my side? He hadn't forgotten Uppsala, that was impossible. He'd risked losing his place in Valhalla over my honor.

"Auntie?" Hvitserk glanced back at Sigurd. "Is there anything you need me to do?"

"First of all? Stay alive. Keep your brother safe. As soon as it starts I mean to take a peek beyond that path. I'd send you, but I know it better than any of you. If Aelle's hiding with a second force, I'll find him." Bjorn had put me in the perfect position to do so. It couldn't be a coincidence.

"During the battle?"

"When else? I'm not able to fight, anyway. It's the logical choice. I'll need you and Sigurd to cover for me when I'm away."

"What? No, we need you to–we're counting on you to wave your flag."

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Spit it out. What flag, what for?"

Hvitserk grasped at a piece of cloth underneath his saddle. It was white as well, bearing the symbol of Ragnar's raven. Its wings were spread, curling up into the Valkyrie symbol, a more intricate design than that written on my face in blood. Ragnar's raven had been blood red. Mine was black as night. At least Bjorn had developed a sense for color schemes, or he'd trusted the boys with it.

"You're supposed to use them to communicate your actions, like in that story you told us."

I sucked in a breath. The advanced warfare techniques that the Viking had no knowledge of, nor did the Saxons. Interesting choice. The boys had definitely had a hand in this plan. "And how are we to communicate without knowing how to flag for what?" I asked.

Hvitserk took in a breath, then let it escape again. "I don't know. I was only supposed to bring that and give it to you, before the battle."

They'd tried. This wasn't the compartmentalization I had envisioned, but they had made a fair attempt at it. They'd get it right next time. My boys were smart.

"We can't fill in for you when there's only one flag. People would notice." Hvitserk had a point. In the hectic, we'd probably lose sight of each other. Handing off the flag meant I couldn't even try and work with their plan. Going rogue now would only confuse everyone involved.

"I'll keep it with me, then."

Hvitserk looked up. Someone drew near behind me.

I turned Phoebe around, my mind filled with memories of how fearful I'd been in Uppsala. Waldemar hadn't dared see me face to face again, since.

"Valkyrie," Waldemar said as he nodded. His face was a mixture of pride and fear. "You sent for me?"

"I did. Last we met, we had a misunderstanding."

He paled but kept his posture. "In Uppsala. Yes, I remember."

"It was my understanding that you thought to take advantage of a woman in her cups, back then."

He lifted up his chin. "Under false pretenses, I assure you. I was made to believe horrible lies." His eyes shot to the boys. Waldemar was smart enough not to mention their mother's name. "I never meant to disrespect you, or your family."

I enjoyed it. Him groveling at my feet, it felt right. He deserved to feel uncomfortable, after almost raping me. He'd done it if I hadn't fought back. It was forbidden to spill blood in Uppsala, and yet I'd bloodied his nose. 

No man would ever touch me against my will again. "Waldemar. We need to trust each other, today. I need you to obey my orders, and you need to trust that I won't put you in danger over mistakes you atoned for."

He audibly gasped. "I trust you with my life, Valkyrie."

I merely nodded. Waldemar went back to his men, a spring in his step.

Sigurd smirked, way too happy about all of this. "I thought he would piss his pants."

"Well done," Hvitserk agreed. He tried his best to look serious.

"He came over fearing Bjorn's wrath, as would any sane man. I don't like to rule with fear, but in his case, I couldn't take any chances." He gathered his men around him, out of earshot. He looked vindicated. Was that a good thing? "Waldemar needed to fear me before he could accept my kindness. But next time we meet, he'll be less afraid of me. I'd have to keep on the pressure to keep him in line, and that would mean I'd have to be more fearful each time we see. It's a slippery slope. Come on, let's not linger on him." I turned Phoebe back to the field. Bjorn's side was filling up, and so was ours.

No birds called out in the eerie silence of a dampened atmosphere. It was about to start. Another horn blew. The first of Aelle's army approached.

Our own grew antsy. "Keep your position or I swear to the gods I'll stab your dick off." My voice carried far enough for the men near us to hear. Their shields stopped clattering into one another. Swords and axes lowered. Fear was the only method strong enough to force them to obey. They'd forget about this soon enough.

Ivar's chariot came into sight. We'd fight an uphill battle. Bjorn had better be acting on accurate numbers, or this would be awful. Floki came out, half his scalp covered in black. A line of about a hundred men followed. Then a second one.

Aelle's forces weren't as broadly spread. They took a pointed formation. They meant to break through the thin line before them, split them into two. Whoever guided them, it was an experienced commander. He wouldn't take an unnecessary risk. There was a second force.

"Spread the word. Shoot the horsemen, first. A second force will come from the west." If they jumped in at the right time, they would trap Harald and Halfdan in between their forces. Bjorn wouldn't mind that, but it would devastate the status quo of Scandinavia. He would want to solidify our borders, it would take years.

First this battle. Then I could worry over being dragged out in this dress for every battle to come. The twins would die of shame if they saw me like this. Freydis would want one just like it.

"Hvitserk. Move to the back. Focus on helping Ivar and Floki when we join in, but keep an eye on us. Sigurd, you take the middle. Make sure my group isn't without support. I'll focus on keeping Harald's men from being trampled."

"It hasn't started yet," Sigurd said. "Are you sure there won't be a parly?"

"Parlay. Not today. We don't negotiate with those who hurt our family."

Aelle's men were wary to get too close to Ivar. Their red banners waved at Ivar. Even the wind was against us. Ivar banged his axe against a shield, screaming his lungs out.

Damnit. It was too early. Aelle wasn't even in sight yet. All he could think about was spilling blood. His men all charged at the enemy.

I scowled, not liking this one bit. The whole field now needed to move accordingly. "Hvitserk. Sigurd. Take your positions. We need to move the whole line at least two hundred feet. Go." I turned Phoebe's head around, keeping my head high as I passed by the soldiers.

They stared at me, not knowing what to think. They started muttering. Waldemar was torn between his men and obeying me.

"I promised a glorious battle, didn't I? Aren't you curious to see Aelle's second army? We're fighting two battles at the same time!" Finally, the crowd moved along with me.

They knew I'd never been in command before. The old, wizened men mumbled amongst each other, the young ones eager to lean into the gossip. 

The back of our train slowly got in position. Hvitserk must've run into some opposing views.

"Remember!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. "Horsemen first! Avenge Ragnar! No mercy!" I pumped a fist into the air, men shouting along as they raised their weapons. Phoebe walked off to the battle, but soon she was overtaken by the warriors, rushing towards death and glory. Sigurd and Hvitserk were off in between them all. On the other side, Bjorn and Ubbe joined in as well. They hadn't moved up ahead, but Harald and his men managed to spring the trap all the same. Good. This would be an easy win.

I turned to the east. If we were fast enough, the battle would be over before Aelle could even join. Perhaps he'd flee back with his remaining men. It would turn this whole campaign in a long siege. I couldn't afford that.

Phoebe guided me through the trees, past the battle. I took a deep breath, getting used to the fact a battle was raging behind me. I was part of this now. Everyone counted on me. We'd win for sure, with our numbers. 

Voices rang out. Hundreds, if not more. Aelle had come prepared.

It was useless. Getting spotted would only make it more likely Aelle would turn around and run off. I turned back before I'd get an arrow shot at my face. Racing over the field, I made my way back to my flank. The fight below had turned into a free-for-all. My protected edge of the forest was perfectly safe to wait out the worst of it.

But Sigurd had no intention of waiting. He rushed ahead to meet me. "Auntie! They're trying to break out!"

Damnit. I grabbed hold of the flag and waved it around. With the second force close, they would be on us soon. Ivar and Floki had to push through, or Harald would be in trouble. And at the same time, Bjorn had to notice me.

Some of the archers stood at the edge, aiming haphazardly on the battle. They could be hitting anyone.

"Oi! You wankers!" I rode past them, scaring them out of their mindless loosening. "Yes, you! Fucking wankers! You see those men there! They mean to break free! They're fighting for their lives to come here and kill you!"

The first arrows already changed targets. Some sat on a horse, shooting from a standstill. "Riders, with me!" At least I could use them for a feint. If they wanted to copy me that badly, they could.

"Ragnhild! Wait, bless my bow!" A stave got pushed in front of me.

I glanced down. The man's eyes were intense. He died as an arrow pierced his heart.

He let go of the bow as he sank to his feet. I grabbed hold of it, and the three arrows he clutched with the same hand. Damn field archers. Damn gods. This was their doing.

"Sigurd, hold this position! Riders, with me!" I rode off, the dead man left to rot. That arrow could've been aimed at me. I was a target, with my white dress and white flag.

Behind me, plenty of hoofbeats followed. We moved back towards the west. The closer we got, the more I slowed down.

"Ragnhild." A woman halted beside me. "Why are we moving away from the battle?"

"We'll draw in the second force. They're right behind that ridge. No one looses an arrow without my say so, is that clear?"

I turned around, not looking anyone in the eye. A few ayes rang out. Most looked back at the battle. "I said, is that clear? Are you with me, or with the first battle?"

They followed me reluctantly. This wouldn't end well for me if I decided to run off now. We fell in with Harald's forces, lingering on the edge. 

"Keep your eyes out for Aelle!" Damnit! We needed the flank to stretch out the moment Aelle's army came this way. Everyone focused on slaughtering the boxed-in first force. I waved my flag, standing up in the stirrups but it was useless. The other flag was nowhere to be seen. Men were fighting and dying only a few feet away.

No one minded the plan anymore. I couldn't blame them, most of our men weren't used to any tactic other than the shield wall. But this was only a fraction of Aelle's true force. He meant to take us by surprise. We had to fall back in line if we wanted to limit casualties. And I wouldn't be able to do it alone.

My flank had melted into the front and back. Sigurd's blood-spattered face rose up as he charged into the enemy, hacking and slashing at everything that wore dark red. Hvitserk... I couldn't see him. On the opposite side, Bjorn was lost in the frenzy, and Ubbe... 

He looked my way, Hvitserk by his side. His flag shot up into the air, men rallying behind them as they called out. 

I had to rally men of my own. Who were loath to follow me, who had a mind for battle over strategy. Whom I'd led closer to Harald than I should have. He would give them exactly what they wanted.

One step at a time. First, they had to acknowledge me.

"Left flank!" I waved my flag, drawing some eyes on me. My throat ached from the shouting, but I had to be louder than the battle. I rode past the edges, flag high as I could get it. "Left flank! Aelle's almost here! Back in formation!"

"Shut yer face, ya cunt!"

The arrow flew off before I realized. It pierced his groin. "Back in position!"

Face flushed, I turned back towards the east. I held my flag up, aiming east as I made my way back there. I'd killed a man for speaking against me. What else would that bloodlust make me do? Still, my hands had taken that man's life. I wasn't innocent.

I had to stay sharp. The guilt pulled at me, but my following swelled as Aelle's second force approached. They had the sun against them, evening out their advantage of fighting downhill. We gathered near the edge of battle. I flew the flag backward. Ubbe did the same as we stopped marching. We had to wait for Aelle, use the same strategy again. 

If any of their commanders realized, we'd be fucked. Ivar had compromised the plan by going forward too much. I'd give him an earful when I'd see him next. For now, I had to focus on giving their army a wide berth with my flank, trap them within a second pincer move and cut off Aelle from his men. Taking him out would disrupt their communication. They'd be headless chickens waiting to get slaughtered.

Aelle's armor shone in the sunlight, a beacon of recognition. His second force was twice as large, if not more. We had the numbers, but most of our warriors were already fatigued. 

So much blood would be spilled. The grass would drown in red, like the poppy fields in Flanders. From their deaths would come beauty. Those Saxon pigs had it coming.

Ubbe's flag indicated forward, but I waved mine back. Aelle wasn't in sight, yet. With Ivar's forces closing in on Harald's, we would encircle and destroy the second force in an instant. And Aelle would be mine. I'd tear out his liver with my bare teeth. 

The army approached, keeping their lines broad. They gave us too much space to get to their core. Aelle kept to the back, as I had during the fight. He wanted to control the strategy. He'd already lost.

Harald knew what it meant to lead the vanguard. He and his men shouted, shields up on the front line. With Aelle in sight, their shield wall charged at the incoming forces. Waving our flags, Ubbe and I joined in. Ivar could fend off the rest by himself. This was his mess, to begin with; he deserved to clean it up as well.

I kept back again. I shot off another arrow as a man nearly shot me off my horse. He'd missed, but I didn't. "Riders! Stay with me! To the side! Flank to the side" With the second force here, most riders followed without question. 

One arrow left. That one was for Aelle. The horse he rode on jerked its head around nervously. He wanted to run. If we didn't go after him now, we'd lose him either way. Flag raised up high, I led Phoebe towards Aelle. A gust of wind tore the flag from my hand.

"Damn you, Freyja," I muttered, but the words disappeared in the rush forward. If she had such a precise vision of how this all had to go down, she could bloody well come down here and do it herself. I held back Phoebe from galloping off towards Aelle; we had to close in as much as we could before giving chase. 

Aelle pulled on the reins of his horse. Its head reared up, mane shaking in the bright light. He'd better be ready to die.

"Get that bastard!" I dove into Phoebe's saddle. She galloped off at the barest touch, racing ahead. If Freyja was watching me closely, she would make sure the flank would spread out enough to close in their forces. The moment we got cut off from the flank, we would turn into the prey. 

He was in shooting range. The bow was too big to keep it upright as I shot. I held it horizontally, an arrow aimed at Aelle's back. The arrow flew off–and missed. A second arrow passed me by from behind.

I jerked my head back. "Fucking assholes! Stop trying to kill me!"

"Stay your arrows!" Sigurd's voice came up from behind, barely audible over the battle raging beside us. 

I'd hoped he wouldn't be here. He was safer back in the fray with the others. I had to do something. If Aelle got away, we wouldn't catch him before I'd start to show. I had to protect my child. Someone had to hand me an arrow to shoot at Aelle, but first I needed a better position.

My left foot left the stirrups. Phoebe kept on galloping, knowing where to go even without my guidance. I found the saddle. I balanced on the center of her back, then lifted my right foot up as well.

"Hold your arrows!" Sigurd shouted again.

I rose up. The bloodlust made me turn around, hand extended. My fingers grazed past an arrowhead. My grasp closed right before the fletching. It would've struck my chest.

The bloodlust kicked me off Phoebe's back. I spun around, aiming my bow at Aelle. The sky spun around, the grass slowly slid above my head. The arrow slammed against the stave. Perfect fit. My left thumb locked the arrow into place, right fingers sliding back to pull the string. The string strained at the pull. The world was upside down.

Aelle rode off, gaining distance. We needed him alive. A little more up, the arrow had to go down. The string hit the corner of my lip. My thumb left the arrow. It flew off. The fletching hit my left thumb. The world turned back into place. 

I turned my head, facing my would-be assassin. My right hand dove towards the lining of my skirt. The horses ran towards me, almost aligned with the ground again. My right foot hit the ground. My hand hit the hilt. The rider was eight feet away.

Left foot on the ground. Shift forward. Pivot on the heel. Push off on my toes. Kris knife into his femoral artery.

The horse rode past me. The rider screamed. People shouted. I stood upright, somehow. Time caught up with me. A lifetime had passed me by. There hadn't been time to think.

My hand. Blood dripped down. The rider cried out as his horse jumped around, panicked. The animal was covered in blood.

"Mom!" Sigurd jumped off his horse, threw his arms around me. "Auntie, what was that?" He clutched my neck, eyes frightened.

"Did they catch Aelle?"

Sigurd calmed down and threw his head back. "I think so. He went down with his horse, the men are tying him up. What was that?" His hand brushed over the side of my face. My hair disappeared behind my ear.

"Bloodlust." It hadn't been me. It'd wanted to see blood pour out of Aelle, and my assailant at the same time.

"That's not an answer. You spun around in thin air, as if you walked on it. What did you do?"

"I don't know. Did we catch Aelle?" Had it all been worth it? I craned my neck. A horse sprawled on its back, legs kicking in the air. An axe swung, the legs kept still. I was too numb to care.

Aelle's screaming face appeared above the body of the horse.

"We caught him," Sigurd said. He pulled me closer. "Are you okay? What did you do?"

"What the gods asked of me." Had I fulfilled their needs? Would I be free of their demands, now?

My eyes caught Phoebe. She hadn't strayed far. Someone clapped my shoulder, wanted to celebrate. I shook them off, eyes turning hard. We stood by as men and women still died. Inexcusable.

"What are you standing around for?" I called out. "Those are our comrades dying! Kill the scum!"

The men and woman who'd given chase with us went off, back towards the battlefield. Sigurd cast a glance back. I followed his gaze. Aelle lay on the ground, tied up but otherwise unguarded.

"Guess we're stuck minding him," Sigurd sighed.

"Just tie him to a horse. He won't mind." I wanted to help Sigurd, but he had no difficulty guiding a horse towards Aelle and tying the ropes to the king's hempen shackles. I turned to Phoebe instead, who was content munching on grass. It was all she ever did.

"Fat lot of good you did." My voice made it sound like a rebuke, not banter. "You could've died."

She whinnied, her eyes focused on Aelle. He shouted. Her ears stood upright.

"No, it's okay. He's a very, very bad man. He killed Ragnar. It's why we're here. Let him curse his god and all of his angels. He's not important." My voice soothed her enough to get most of the tension out of her. I still didn't feel like myself again. No adrenaline rushed through my veins, I hadn't even broken out into a sweat. Numb. The word meant nothing to me. 

Sigurd had already mounted his horse. "I still can't believe it," he said. "You jumped, and you shot an arrow that killed his horse, and then you killed that traitor the moment you landed. Did you know him?"

I glanced back at the Viking corpse. "One of Harald's men. Dumb fuck that wanted to challenge me, before. He didn't even believe I was the Vessel of Freyja."

He squinted.

"Don't go there." I gave Phoebe the reins.

"Do you even know what this means?"

"Hmm?"

"You jumping like that. Everything, from the moment you stood up on a horse's back."

"Sigurd, I'm a Valkyrie. It's what people expect of me." The gods would not let me besmirch their good reputation, by force if they had to. They were to blame for this–this curse. 

"You could've shot him sitting down."

"You saw me miss that shot."

"After what I just saw you pull off? Are you sure you're not able to swing a sword?"

"Sigurd, stop. I know you're excited, but it wasn't me. I can't do that stuff, it's like someone took over my body. I hate when this happens."

"It happened before? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because it's not just cool tricks and somersaults. When it tries to take over, I have an urge to kill anyone near me. The only ones I've never wanted to kill were my children."

He paled, kept his eyes up front.

"I can control it, outside of battle. But when I was chasing Aelle, I didn't stand a chance. It's never been this severe. So please, don't let this get out of hand. I don't want people to ask me to show off, because I can't. If I try, people could die."

"Because you can't tell who the enemy is?"

If only it were that easy. "It doesn't matter whose blood it is."

Before us, the battle was all but done. Already the scavengers were making the rounds, measuring boots, searching pockets, comparing weapons. Death cries rose up from those who were stabbed with swords, making sure the enemies were truly dead.

Too many of the dead were ours. If glory meant gore, I wanted nothing to do with it. I knew that, I could think about it, but the sight before me didn't elicit a further response. 

"Valkyrie!"

"Avenge Ragnar! No surrender!"

The cheerful cries forced me to put on a mask of pride. Sigurd and I trudged on past the bodies, Aelle drawing a lot of attention. Meanwhile, my eyes flitted over the field, eager to find Hvitserk. 

"There's Bjorn," Sigurd said. He headed over without a second thought. I rode along. He might know more about Hvitserk. Why was it always him I had to ask about? He was a better warrior than his brothers, only Bjorn casting a shadow over him. Had it not been for Bjorn's experience, he would've beaten him, too.

"I see you've been hunting, brother." Bjorn took hold of Sigurd's reins so he could get off.

Sigurd smiled. "Freshly caught, nice and plump. What do you want to do with him?" 

Bjorn's eyes flitted over to me. "Why do you have a bow?"

"I took him out."

"You got him? How?"

"Went for his horse. You needed him alive. Have you seen Hvitserk?"

"Yeah, he should be around here somewhere. Lost his horse, is all." Bjorn kept staring as if I had something on my face.

Typical Hvitserk. Ubbe and Ivar came our way, bloodied but not hurt. Ubbe had that blasted flag draped over his shoulders.

"Valkyrie!"

My head snapped back. A woman came near, looking flushed. Her face was clean, her leather armor was clean, but her pants were covered in mud. Archer. She'd been with us during the chase.

"Your knife, you left it in Stew's groin." She held out the blade. It was covered in blood.

"Ah, thank you. I hadn't realized I had left it." I took it from her, not happy how it was slathered in blood. If anything, I needed to stay away from it.

"You were amazing out there. How did you even come up with the idea to stand on your horse?"

I shot her a wary glance as I wiped off the blade. The hilt was soaked in blood. I'd have to clean it when we got back to camp. "I'm too small to shoot a bow sitting down. That's all."

She gaped for a second. "Then how did you catch that arrow?"

Sigurd stood by me in a second. "Æshild."

"Caught an arrow?" Ivar asked. "How do you imagine that happening?"

Æshild shot me a glance. It was too late, now. It would've gotten out, anyway. "She–she got up on her saddle, when Sigurd shouted to stop loosing arrows. They thought they could copy her, but they didn't hit a thing. Stew refused to listen, and he shot another arrow. Would've killed her instantly, that close range. But she got up and grasped it, in her fist. Then she jumped off, doing some sort of somersault. Used that arrow meant for her and hit Aelle's horse. Then she landed and stabbed Stew in the dick as he rode past." She couldn't hide her enthusiasm, despite her fear.

"We should be going." I looked up, raising my hand to get my hair out of my face.

Something approached. My fingers shot towards it, grasping. Clutching. Fletching. The arrowhead almost touched my nose.

"Ivar! Have you lost your fucking mind!" Ubbe all but dragged his brother off the chariot.

Sigurd started shouting at Bjorn, who shouted at Ivar as well. Hvitserk came running from a distance, his gaze stern.

I twirled the arrow in my hand. "Thank you, Æshild. For returning my knife. I'm not fond of attention like this, as you may understand."

"Y–yes, Valkyrie. I'll tell everyone." She turned around immediately.

"Have you lost your fucking mind! Get out of my face, now!" Bjorn sprayed Ivar with spittle.

What exactly would Æshild be saying? She was already off. I turned back to Ivar, still holding the arrow in my hand.

"She was involved in my mother's death. I have every right to try and avenge her!"

Ubbe had told him. The fear in his eyes as he glanced at me, he worried over losing my trust again.

"You tried to kill her." Bjorn pulled Ivar close. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"She claims to be a Valkyrie. Now she proved that she is."

Stew hadn't been the only one who'd hesitated. Dumb luck had kept me safe. But even I couldn't call it that anymore. I twirled the arrow again.

Sigurd touched my arm. "Why aren't you mad?"

"You can't blame a storm for sinking a ship. I need to take a piss." I guided Phoebe off to the forest with my knees.

I didn't feel a thing. That arrow could've killed me, but I felt empty. There wasn't bloodlust rushing through me, nor adrenaline.

Floki would kill me. He'd warned me about this. And yet, I had insisted I knew my curse better than anyone else. What else could this be? The gods had a cruel sense of humor. Years back I'd pretended my IUD was a curse, and now they had given me a real one.

Ivar had shot this arrow at my head. I'd caught it. 

Nothing. No awe, no fear, no anger. It was... Disconcerting, at best.


	45. Bloðorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23-05-815

The sky above me was still cloudless. Branched filled with thin, green leaves broke the sunlight into beams, warming me despite the coldness in my heart. I twirled the arrow in my fingers. The gods had kept me safe once again. Freyja watched over me as if I were her daughter.

Heavy boots approached. I didn't want to return to the field, yet. 

"Mom." It was Sigurd. 

I kept looking up at the sky. If only I understood the gods like others claimed they did. "I need to talk to Floki."

"He's gone with Ivar." 

"Then maybe Halfdan. They don't call him The Black for nothing." I turned around. 

Sigurd looked defeated. My hand found his face. "I know you want to help me. I promised I'd talk to you about it, but this isn't something someone as young as you can help me with." Gods be good, he would never experience this kind of violence in his heart, nor the cold that followed.

"If you think he can help you, I won't bring it up again. You know it's not about him, right? I don't trust Harald, and Halfdan is loyal to him most of all. He'll betray you eventually."

"I know. But right now, he might be the only one who can help me. I need to know what this is." I didn't want to think of it as a part of me. I was too scared of it to admit it.

Sigurd looked worried but didn't press the subject. He hooked his arm in mine and dragged me back to the field. 

A forced smile lingered but for a few seconds on my face. "What did they do to Ivar?"

"It didn't go much further than shouting at him. They should've taken his weapons and sent him back home. He's not ready to be in battle and keep his focus. He's too young."

I sighed. That would've taken Ivar back to Lagertha. He was certain to pull a move there. Bjorn wouldn't want that to happen. Not to mention Ivar would be near the kids. That was a risk I couldn't take anymore. Underneath the family ties, Ivar was branding himself an enemy to my family. He was as much a threat as Harald was.

My fingers clenched. I took a measured breath. The bloodlust subsided.

I hated the sight of victory. All of us were too young to die this violently. At least, that's what I told myself. My heart wasn't in it. I doubted it was still there.

Ivar's chariot was out of sight, as was Floki. The boys and Bjorn waited for me, Aelle tied behind Bjorn's horse. All of them had gotten up already. 

"We got a good idea of where to look," Bjorn said as he took me in. His eyes tried to wound me. It slid off me as if I'd been dressed in teflon. He couldn't hurt me anymore. No one could. 

I felt empty. I didn't want to fight Bjorn. The bloodlust had hollowed me out, and Ivar's stunt had only made it worse. As Sigurd helped me on Phoebe, I took a deep breath. This wasn't about me, right now. Hvitserk and Ubbe had done well, and that needed to be said. I'd ride with them.

We moved further west, until the woods changed. The trees were older, gnarlier. Had it rained, this place would've looked dreadful. We hit a road with deep ruts from carts. Some of the tracks were fresh. Where was Bjorn taking us? 

I rode next to Ubbe, his flag still draped over his shoulder. "Whose idea were those?" My voice sounded off. 

He pulled the flag off. "Mine." His slight blush brought back a shred of glee.

I clung to the feeling with a fury. I'd drag those feelings back one by one if I had to. "You sound embarrassed." I forced a smile to the surface. 

"Because it's from one of your stories."

I shrugged. It felt awkward. "You picked up what I meant for you to learn. It made it a lot easier for the men to follow me."

"You're our Valkyrie. Of course they'd follow you."

He hadn't seen what I had. I'd have just as many issues following a stranger who claimed to be connected to the gods. "I'd chalk it up to dumb luck, but you'll just tell me there's no such thing as coincidences." Neither could I claim that anymore. As much as I controlled my own fate, the gods made it hard for me to stay in charge. 

"I told him before we even left," Ubbe blurted out. "When Bjorn returned, Ivar knew. He deserved to know. It wasn't out of anger."

I felt mildly exasperated. He must've been pissed off about me being rewarded by the gods. In his mind, I'd taken away the only woman who had ever loved him, and for that, I had to pay. I'd felt the same about him being saved over Kol, plenty of times. It made sense, though it also meant he didn't care about me at all. Nor what losing me would do to his environment.

"I don't want you to be angry with me again." Ubbe glanced over, the worry creasing in his face.

"I'm not angry. It's okay, I just have a lot on my mind. I only blame Ivar for shooting that arrow at me."

A careful smile washed away the frowning lines. "You were right when you told me not to underestimate you. I had no idea you could catch an arrow like that."

I almost bit my lip. My worry for him grew to a slight nervousness. "Never show your enemy all of your coin tricks."

"Lagertha said something similar to me when she held me and Sigurd captive. I hadn't realized you two were so much alike." 

I sized Ubbe up, wanting to see his expression. "Thank you. I've always looked up to her, for being such a great warrior."

"She may be able to fight with sword and shield, but if you were to face off against her strategically, I think you'd win." His easy smile was misplaced.

"I think we'd be evenly matched. She's got more hands-on experience, though I might be able to surprise her."

"Don't start underestimating yourself, now."

"I'd rather not underestimate her." My mind drifted off to home. Was Lagertha taking good care of them?

The children were the one constant in my life. I'd always love them, put them first. But was it fair to make a bastard of my baby to save the other three from fights they were already used to? Or would it only get worse? 

Freydis' voice rang through my mind. I hope you come back and will still be my mother.

I swallowed. My breathing ragged, adrenaline rushed through my vein. A whole battle's worth. I had to come back to her and still be myself. Had she known I'd needed to hear those words? They were an anchor that kept me connected to my children, to home. It was all I had left to cling to. I had to keep fighting against that cursed emptiness, if only for her.

"Hmm? Auntie?"

"It's nothing," I breathed. "I just - I killed more of ours than Saxons today." I needn't say more. Ubbe nodded sternly, gaze ahead to give me a moment to myself.

By the time I'd mostly calmed down, Ivar's chariot came into sight. He and Floki were already waiting for us. Bjorn dragged Aelle to his feet, forcing him to stumble in front of him. When my feet hit the ground, I felt an eerie silence creep up. I shook it off. I wasn't scare of Ivar. I made sure to give Phoebe a bit of attention before I guided her to a small patch of grass she could graze on. 

"Ivar has something to say to you," Floki told me. 

I rolled my eyes before turning around to face them. I'd show that brat what I thought of his actions.

Ivar looked more annoyed than contrite. "I'm -"

"Save it. Don't say things you don't mean, Ivar. Your apology means nothing to me if it doesn't mean shit to you. You tried to kill me. You tried to bring a personal score into the campaign. You endangered all of us, for your own selfish gain. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't grab that arrow and shove it up your arse."

"I didn't hurt you," he sneered.

"That was what Odr thought when he shot that arrow at Baldur. Did you learn nothing of that tale? What if Loki had interfered again? Just because Freyja protects me doesn't mean I'm invincible." The bloodlust crawled up again. I should've let Ragnar kill that shit when he was a baby. But now, I'd get to feel his blood run down my arms as I pressed his eye sockets back into his skull.

"You're overreacting!"

I inched closer towards his chariot. "You're irresponsible, you're arrogant, and you should remember that I'm thrice your age! Don't you dare try and turn this back on me! If you think to take me on, I'll bury you alive and piss on your grave!"

"Enough!" Bjorn's shouting pierced through my anger. 

Freydis' words echoed in my ears, forcibly ricocheting in my skull as I turned around. Bjorn had no right to judge me for being angry at Ivar, not after all the yelling the others had done already. 

"We're here to find Ragnar, not settle scores." Bjorn nodded towards Aelle. What did I care about the king hearing us fight? "Ask him if this is where he murdered our father." 

My eyes flashed up to Bjorn's. He should've taken the effort to learn English, with all the raids he'd led. The anger pulsing through my veins wanted to target him, next. He stared back at me, his face devoid of any emotion. 

Floki and Ivar argued in whispers in the background. The boys were silent. Phoebe's mind was with her patch of grass. This was not the time to lay into Bjorn. 

The king was on his knees, sniveling like a baby. On second thought, that would be an insult to babies. The way his tears had mixed in with his snot, his eyes red and swollen, he was just pathetic. This was the man who had killed Ragnar?

"Hello, Aelle." He didn't dare look up at me. I grabbed him by the chin and forced him to look me in the eye. "Is this where you killed Ragnar?" Instead of answering me, he started praying. I squeezed his jaw. "Your god can't hear you. Answer me." 

"God will surely take me up to heaven!" He fought his bonds, wriggling like the worm he was. 

"God doesn't do that. His angels do. And I'm the only Valkyrie here." I couldn't keep from smirking. 

He spat at me, but only a few droplets left his mouth. "You're a demon, come from Hell!"

Bjorn sighed. "We don't have all day, Ragnhild." 

Aelle's eyes went wide. "You..." His mouth remained open as he tried to back away from me.

I kept my face hard. Were the gods at it again? Just five minutes without something exploding in my face, or people trying to kill me. Was that too much to ask?

Aelle's eyes darted over to Ivar. Fear took over. He struggled against his bonds, but Bjorn kept him in place. "No! Get her away from me! I won't have her decide on my fate!" 

Bjorn and I exchanged glances. I had no idea what he was talking about. "What is it you know about me?"

His lip quivered, but still, he shouted. "I was warned about you. Ragnar warned me, and I was a fool to ignore him!" 

"Auntie, what is he saying?" Sigurd's words only made Aelle fight harder. More eyes shot up at me now.

"Shh, not now." I turned back to Aelle. "Explain yourself. What did Ragnar warn you about?" 

"You'll burn in hell!" 

Ivar crawled closer. He looked at Aelle's terrified expression, then glanced up at me. "Why would he fear you, and what does he have to say about our father?"

I bit back an insult. I fought the urge to draw my Kris knife and slit his throat. Both of theirs. "I think Ragnar might have had some fun playing with his mind before he got killed." 

Ivar snarled. The kid had some nerve approaching me this close, let alone interfere with my interrogation of Aelle. "Ask him. Why does he fear you? What did father tell him?" Ivar had lost all of his credit with me. It hadn't been much, to begin with. 

Bjorn grunted, scaring off Ivar before I could rip him new asshole. Floki put a hand on Ivar shoulder and pulled Ivar away. 

"That cripple is not the one you should fear," I hissed. "What did Ragnar tell you?"

"He told me everything! He wanted to keep you from coming here. Sistyrkin Ragnhild heimvisti!" 

The forest went silent. No birds sang, the leaves didn't rustle. Or if they did, I couldn't hear it. The eerie feeling from before turned into a seed of fear. Auntie Ragnhild must stay home. Those were undoubtedly Ragnar's words. His last ones, for all we knew. 

"Is it too late to save my people? Was it a mistake not to let this cripple pass on that message?"

"Why would he want me to stay home?" I was glad no one else spoke English.

"Because he warned me you would tear apart kingdoms, and tear families asunder. You will decide who lives, and who dies." His eyes were hard now. He managed to lift up his head. He saw the confusion behind my eyes.

I leaned back. "He told you?" Being here was what my destiny was all about? Ragnar must have found out something. He'd feared for me, for what was to come. Just what did the gods expect me to do here?

"You have a tender heart. He meant to protect you, though I know not what from. Will you heed his final wish, and return home?" 

I approached him once more. "You're asking if I will let you live. You don't care about me, or Ragnar. You want us all to die."

"What if I do?" Cheeky fucking asshole. 

I stared deep into his eyes, as if his face was a bit further off. "I will tear apart your kingdom, and your family."

Aelle paled. "Y-you can't! You have a tender heart, you will weep for what you did!" 

The more he said, the more I wondered what could have driven Ragnar to tell this man so much. He must have been desperate to get across that message. The way Aelle spoke of his words, it was like gospel.

Bjorn jerked the king back to his knees. "Where did he die?" Bjorn asked, his voice low and menacing. If anything, his terrible accent made it sound worse. Aelle only had eyes for me, though. "Boys. go look around if you can find something." His eyes warned me to not push my luck with Aelle. Not yet, at least. 

They scattered and soon found wooden planks underneath the dirt and leaves. Bjorn dragged the king with him and had the planks pulled away. The boys gathered around it, looking in. I joined them. Anything to get away from Bjorn. There was nothing but dirt and leaves. 

If there had been a body, it had been removed. If there had been blood, it had been washed away by the rain. But the eerie feeling worsened as I came closer to the pit. If not Ragnar's death, something else had happened here, something terrible. A convergence of those who were supposed to be elsewhere. As if death hadn't come for them when it should've.

I shook my head; this was nonsense. Ragnar had probably died here, and judging by everyone's faces, they weren't left untouched by the atmosphere, either. Odin himself had visited his sons to proclaim Ragnar's death, Ragnar wasn't hiding in the shrubbery waiting to jump out. 

Aelle cried out behind us. "Please, I'll give you whatever you want! Gold, silver, just name your price! Just get me away from that demon!" The fear in his eyes hurt. I'd never even met the man, but somehow he feared me worse than the most fearsome Viking alive. Had Ragnar done this on purpose? 

"Our father was worth more than gold and silver," Ivar growled in Norse. 

Aelle glanced around, but no one moved. 

Bjorn spat in front of the king. "I've heard enough. Let's blood eagle the bastard and be done with it."

This was as close as we would come to finding Ragnar's remains. No one had thought it would end up differently, but still I had wanted to give Ragnar a proper burial. Only the gods knew if he'd made it to Valhalla without his remains sent there as well. 

Floki took some time to build a rack to hold the king in place while Bjorn sharpened his axe, one foot on Aelle's back. I kept my eyes on Aelle, trying to see if he would gather enough courage to try and talk to me some more. I was the only one who understood him well enough to speak without gestures. Ragnar had done a number on him, but had it been part of a plan? What good could come from Aelle fearing us? Was there even some sort of message? Or had Ragnar lost it right before the end? He'd always been close to cracking.

As were two of his sons. The ones I hadn't raised. I pushed harder on the stick I used to draw out the schematics of the battle we'd just won. Had Ivar not rushed in, roughly a third of those who had died would've still been alive. 

Bjorn might've had reasons to be mad at me for years, but the way he'd acted was no way to deal with that. He had a similar temper to Ivar's when he got pushed far enough. The only difference was that when I wasn't involved, he knew how to deal with it better.

Hvitserk sat down next to me. He nodded towards Bjorn. "Why is he so scared of you? What did he say?"

He meant Aelle. "He talked to Ragnar about me. I don't know why."

"How can you know?" 

The stick broke in my grasp. I tore the two halves loose and tossed them both aside. "Because Aelle told me about a prophecy. The Seer told me those exact words over sixteen years ago." 

"What did it say?"

"It was not meant for your ears, and apparently I made a mistake telling Ragnar and Floki." The boatbuilder looked up at the mention of his name. His eyes narrowed as he turned back to the frame. He spent too much time on it for what Aelle was worth.

"Then what will you do now?" 

I glanced around. Sigurd and Ubbe whispered as they stole glances our way, while Ivar stared at me. Intently. He'd understood more than I'd liked. I wasn't the only one keeping secrets. Did he still want to push onto Ecbert's territory? Should I be worried about him trying to kill me again?

"I will watch Aelle die, and go on with my life."

"You will act as if nothing happened?" The disappointment dripped from his voice. His mind no doubt filled up with fantasies about how I'd drag the truth from Aelle, how I'd slay a dragon, save a princess, all the boyish fancies I'd filled his head with over the years. Just because he didn't have a temper didn't mean I'd done right by him.

It was a miracle I'd made it out of that battle alive. My head was anywhere but with the raid. "Nothing did happen, Hvitserk. I do not wish to talk about it."

"If nothing happened there wouldn't even be anything to not talk about." 

I got up. Hvitserk was right; the man was terrified of me. He had a reason to feel this frightened. He feared me beyond death. I did want to talk about it, despite the fact Bjorn loomed over us both as I kneeled down.

"When did you talk to Ragnar?"

"Will you hurt me?" He looked ready to shit himself. 

"I could make it go a lot more smooth." I fingered the Kris knife lodged in the hem of my skirt, revealing the handle to Aelle's eyes. My arm kept it from sight of Bjorn.

His eyes flashed away from my bared thigh, but they kept returning to the handle. "You would go against their plans? They're your family."

"I tend to tear those apart. What did Ragnar tell you about me?" Aelle glanced over at Bjorn and Floki. "Do you know what they mean to do?"

"They'll kill me." He swallowed hard, lips pressed shut to keep from shaking. At least he tried to be brave about it.

"Oh, believe me. You can't even begin to imagine it. He will slice open your back, then hack into your ribs. They will jut out like wings, and your lungs will be cut out and placed on your shoulders. We call it a blood eagle. I saw it once before, when Ragnar punished a man for threatening his family. He kept silent. He endured it all, and he was a lesser man than any of us here. You'll be awake for it all." I couldn't keep the admiration from my voice. I wanted to feel someone's blood soak my clothes as their lives slowly slipped through my fingers. But Aelle was not mine to kill.

The bloodlust came on faster than before. My face fell as I remembered Freydis' words. 

Aelle kept his eyes on my knife. "The man who brought him told me. He was blind, came in on a mule cart from Wessex. Ragnar asked him about Ecbert, and then started praying to your pagan gods. Ragnhild, you have to help me. I swear, Ragnar did not want this for you. You can't ignore his final wishes, you weren't born into their life. You were Christian once, have mercy." 

Ice slid down my throat. Just how desperate had Ragnar been, to have told a complete stranger all that about me? He must have panicked when he'd found out about where I came from. Even then, had Aelle told anyone else... Bjorn and Lagertha knew, and Floki and Helga. I'd told the children to pacify them, because I knew they would never betray me. They knew what was at stake. 

"What's there to tell about Ecbert? Why did Ragnar ask about him?"

"I don't know. You have to believe me, he was acting strange. He kept asking about time. All Ecbert brought me was death. Everything he does comes with some demand or another." Now that was something I could relate to. It didn't help solve the mystery, however. What had driven Ragnar to desperation? "Please, Ragnhild. You promised..." 

"I'm still none the wiser. Why did Ragnar want me to stay home?"

"I don't have long left, I beg of you... You can decide who lives and dies." He fought against his bonds, trying to get closer to me. He was drawing even more attention to us. 

"Then tell me what I want to hear. Why would Ragnar tell anyone about me?"

"He was afraid of what coming here would do to you. He said he loved you more than he wanted us to hurt." It fit with what Ragnar had told me himself, but I still missed a large part of the puzzle. I put my face next to Aelle's. He reeked of desperation. His words wouldn't be the whole truth.

"Ragnar was the one that told me to come here. Don't you lie to me."

"it's true! Please, Ragnhild!" 

Too many eyes were staring. I could sense them all watching for a clue as to what we were talking about, with bated breath. "I still don't know shit. I promised a smooth death, not a quick one. Not a painless one." I lifted the knife from my hem. "This will make a much smoother line in your skin than those blasted knives we tend to use. You should feel special. It's for the other end of the world." 

"You tricked me! You pagan whore!" 

Bjorn watched me with intense eyes. Aelle kept flinging insults at me, half of which I didn't even understand. That was probably for the best. 

"What's with the old goat?" Bjorn's axe was sharp as it would ever be. 

"Your father told a blind man about that old prophecy, and prayed to the gods."

"How did he even know you would come here?" I shouldn't have talked to Bjorn. He was asking all the right questions. My silence told me he was on the right path. His eyes split the air between us. "You will answer me."

Telling him half of what I knew would at least keep us from fighting again. My fuse was already short. It got shorter the longer I looked at Bjorn. "On his last day, he found out where I come from. Perhaps that has to do with it."

"You're lying."

"I'm confused. Why would he not want me here? He knew I wasn't planning on joining a raid again. If anything it would've led me to come here." 

Bjorn frunted. "Then he wanted you to come? Why?"

"That's why I'm confused." Our eyes met. He couldn't find a lie in my eyes. The confusion was real, and it hid the lies in my heart. Ragnar had taught me how to do that. The most convincing lies were half-truths.

Floki pulled us out of our conversation. "Bjorn. I'm ready." 

I handed Bjorn the knife. "Use this one. It'll give more sting." 

He didn't believe me, at all, but he took it anyway. Aelle deserved to suffer.

The first time I'd seen a man blood eagled, I had been terrified. Ragnar had made it look like a work of art. He had taken pride in doing it. Bjorn was not his father, however, and Aelle was not Jarl Borg. This man would scream. This man would cry out. Bjorn would make sure he died in agony. 

If only the bloodlust wouldn't overtake me again.

Floki had fashioned a few nails to crucify Aelle to his frame, and as Bjorn put the blade into the king's flesh, I knew I would make it through. This was the man who had killed Ragnar. He was the reason I was here, and the reason so many of our men and women had died. He was the reason I'd cut my hair, and the reason I had become a Valkyrie. Without meaning to, he had turned my world upside down. Against what Ragnar had wanted for me, in the end. 

Having Aelle fear me like this was something I could use to my advantage, if I knew how to play this right.

"The sacrifices of pagans are offered to - aaah! Demons! Not to God!" 

I sank down to my knees in front of Aelle. The hatred in his eyes fueled my anger. "You said in your heart, 'I will ascend to the heavens; I will raise my throne above the stars of God.' It is your kind that made me turn my back on Him." 

As Bjorn hacked into the ribs, blood spattering on his face, I was proud of him. Aelle screamed so much he couldn't respond to my citation, while Bjorn looked fierce. He was relentless, causing as much pain as he could. This was justice. This felt like the opposite of bloodlust. Had we been alone, I'd jumped his bones. 

Aelle started to lose consciousness, way too soon for my liking. The boys started to throw him lewd comments, joking on his manhood. Bjorn kept hacking away all the while. He took no joy from this. He didn't believe in a beautiful death. It was something to check off a list. 

I switched to Dutch. "Aren't you happy to avenge your -"

"No! This can't be!" Aelle tried to find my voice, but he couldn't raise up his head. I should have remained silent. "You..." 

Bjorn snarled and put his axe to Aelle's ribs again. The crunch had me pull up my lip. 

"Stop! Save..." Another scream rose up through the forest. "Save yourselves. She..." Bjorn grabbed hold of his ribs and yanked, hard. "His daughter..." 

Ice ran down my spine, and slowly I got closer. Just what did he refer to? I looked up at Bjorn, who took my knife in his hand again. As he sliced inside Aelle's chest cavity, the king died.

Bjorn spoke Dutch as well. "What's he saying?" He must've seen my face from the corner of his eye. 

I'd told no one Ragnar had called me his daughter, and this was not the time to bring that up. Nor would it ever be. I got up, there was no sense in kneeling for a dead man. "He warned you against me." 

Bjorn laughed as he tore one of Aelle's lungs out and placed it on his shoulder. It soured whatever patience I still had for him. 

"Ragnhild?" Floki's voice was a whisper in my ear. "Is this about..."

"Oh, yes. Ragnar found out." Bjorn wiped at the blood on his face, making his face seem like even more of a mess. It turned me on. What the hell was happening? Was this part of the bloodlust, too? I hated his guts, I should worry about not stabbing him. Not... Fuck, if these were my pregnancy hormones I would choke a bitch.

"The blind man saw him." Bjorn dug into the chest again, pulling out the second lung.

I kept my eyes on the bloody chest. That should be dripping down my hand, not Bjorn's. Was I jealous? What was going on with me? "Why else would he panic, telling Aelle all about me?"

"Then answer me this," Floki said as he stood up straight. "Why did he speak of you as a daughter?" 

I slowly turned to face him, not knowing what to think or say. Dothor, dottir, it was close enough to make that connection. I cursed Aelle for giving them that piece of information, out of all he had said.

"You caught that, too?" Bjorn asked. "I'm wondering the same."

"And wonder you will." I turned on my heel and left to find Phoebe. With Aelle dead, there was no reason for me to stay here. I needed to think about what Aelle had said on my own, first. Then I could scold Floki for confusing me, and kick Bjorn's ass for treating me like crap ever since I'd given birth to Freydis. And maybe figure out what the fuck was going on with me.


	46. Breaking the Habit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23-05-815

Sigurd had convinced me to stay with the group, if only because we didn't know what people could be lurking in the forest on my way back. He said it like he'd keep Bjorn away from me, but as soon as he rode up to me on my left, Sigurd fell back without a word. 

Bjorn looked smug, as if he had it all figured out. Over-confident piece of shit. I wouldn't tell him a thing. "For your first time being in command you did well. You didn't make any mistakes as you did in the last battle." He was way too careful and complimentary. 

I'd see where this was going, first. "For your first time blood eagling a man, you weren't that bad yourself." It hadn't been anywhere near as neat as Ragnar's, but it was a nice touch to hang Aelle's body between the trees. Still, Bjorn had no business talking to me, compliments or no. 

"You and Ubbe were right about those flags. I was impressed with how fast you both responded."

As if he'd been paying attention. Apparently he'd missed the truth about those flags, as well. At least it served to brighten up my day. Ubbe had gotten better at lying. "If only he could do as well in his love life. He's learning fast."

"As do you. I'm sure you could lead us just as well as me." 

I scoffed, shaking my head. He was pushing me too far. "Why the compliments?" What did he need from me? Would I even want to know?

"Because you deserve them. I don't give them out lightly. You have to admit, that Valkyrie spiel is working. How is your wound? Any lingering pain?"

"Bjorn. What are you doing? What do you want from me?"

His smile turned half amused, half cruel. "I found out why you've been acting like an idiot. What made you think you could go behind my back? Floki doesn't speak for me. My heart is my own. And we don't show it until the axe reveals it."

I opened my mouth but I couldn't comprehend him. What had gotten up his ass and died? "What's that supposed to mean?" That sounded like something Floki would say, or Rollo. 

"You told Floki why I left you."

No wonder he'd wanted to butter me up. My jaw clenched. "I spent over three years getting you to hear me out. And now you tell me I should've told him about our secrets before?"

"Why didn't you tell me? You threw away our marriage, for what? Keeping some fantasy going?"

I squeezed Phoebe's reins. This was unreal. "The one living in a fantasy was you. I was fine having three children. I never wanted a fourth, or a fifth, or a sixth."

He scoffed. "What?"

"I told you from the start. Before we even got together. You just decided it one day. Did you ever hear me bring up I wanted more children?"

His face turned scarlet. "You wanted to adopt!"

"I wanted you!" I looked away. This wasn't the subject to yell about with the boys this close. Even though I wanted to smack him in the face and curse his name to the wind. "You pushed too hard. I was certain you would leave me if I said no."

He brought his horse closer to mine. I had to rein Phoebe in to keep her from evading his stallion. "You can't blame me for that. Not after everything I did for you. You never had trouble pushing back on what you didn't want."

"Our relationship was never about winning some competition. You did those things out of love for me, because I couldn't. And after I gave birth to Freydis, I still couldn't keep up with all that you did for our family. I was a mess during the pregnancy, and then after she was born I wasn't in much better shape. You wanted another child when I wasn't ready." I still didn't know if I was ready for another child. 

"Bullshit. That's not what you told Floki. I thought you finally came to your senses."

"I did." I refused to ride ahead or slow down. 

Bjorn fumed inside, but he kept riding beside me. He was too stubborn for his own good. 

I huffed. I wanted to tell him he'd been wrong to yell that loud. That we had bigger things to worry about. That he was an idiot for wanting more children when he barely did anything with the ones he already had. But I kept quiet. I ignored the tugging at my heart. I'd decided to keep my little sprout. What would've happened if I'd gotten pregnant years ago?

I'd never counted on having children with such age differences. Gods, what if I carried twins again? The boys would have their work cut out, helping me around the house. The twins would have to step up, as well. It would be great practice for them later in life. They would be happy for me, too. Until they found out it was their father's. 

"You never give me a straight answer anymore," Bjorn complained.

"I just don't tell you what you want to hear."

"Why did Ragnar tell Aelle about you?" 

"To mess with his mind or something. I don't know. I told you."

"So it's a coincidence this comes to light just when you accept your role as Valkyrie?"

I shot him a dirty look. "Ragnar didn't know I would come. Did you forget that I swore never to go raiding again? Because he didn't."

Bjorn pulled a grin out of his ass. "I'd almost forget. You seem to be having fun, when we're not arguing."

"I still hate death," I hissed. He pulled a face. He was right, I had changed. But not as he thought. "I remember them all." Just like Ragnar had known I would. This was what he wanted to protect me from. The thought was sobering. He'd changed his mind, he must have realized Bjorn and I were beyond repair. I would've been better off staying at home, preparing for the birth. 

Bjorn's voice turned soft. "You have to be careful. You can't put a face and a name to anyone you kill. It'll haunt your dreams if you do."

"I know. But I can't deny that part of me wants to be here." 

"I sent you on that scouting mission with Halfdan hoping you'd find a lost soldier and couldn't kill him." He wasn't joking. Halfdan was most likely to open my eyes to the nasty business that came with raiding. Bjorn had wanted me to admit defeat before I ever saw battle. 

"Why would you hope that?" 

He sighed. He knew I'd ask it, but his reluctance to answer said it all. "As I said, I was worried. I underestimated you." 

"Your father told me you would." Just like Ragnar had done himself, in the end.

"You spoke to him about me?"

"We talked about a lot of things before he left."

"Anything I should know?" If only he knew.

"He told me to keep an eye on you. All of you. And..." I hesitated. The days we shared everything were long gone. But if he thought to suddenly act civilized, this was part of it. His reaction would tell me if he was honest about this shift in his attitude. "He knew this would happen. All of this. The campaign." I waited for the words to sink in. Bjorn's eyes hardened at the realization. "How you would grunt, he said."

"As we'd hear how the old boar suffered," Bjorn finished. He looked surprised. "We heard those words in the south of Spain. When the crows flew overhead, and Odin showed himself to us."

"It doesn't matter, then. The gods wanted us to come here." All of us, including me. They knew Ragnar's message would be in vain. They knew exactly what I was capable of. 

Bjorn had taken the news of his father better than I thought. Still, I wasn't ready to talk about more than that. This was already a huge step for us. I didn't want to jinx it. 

"When did you find your faith again?"

"You thought I lost it over the Valkyrie thing? I did what I always do when I come across something impossible. I look for another explanation, and whenever everything that could make sense doesn't fit..."

"Then the most improbable option must be true. I remember. At least you worked through the alternatives rather fast this time. I was sure this would take a few years." We remained silent, until the battlefield was almost in sight. 

"What did he tell you? Why did he know you?" 

"I'd rather not say."

"Why not?" His voice turned sharp immediately. "Don't think you can keep it to yourself. I won't let you leverage this over me. Is it because of the prophecy he mentioned?" 

"Because of things you cannot understand." I gazed up to the sky. How could I ever tell him that his father had died a coward? Using his death to cause this campaign was one thing, but to know they wouldn't meet again in Valhalla... I couldn't do that to him. It would get out to the boys, and they would suffer even worse. 

"You once promised to tell me whenever you didn't understand something." 

Anger flared inside of me. How dare he turn this around to me. "And you promised you'd never hurt me."

"You still know how to infuriate me, as well." Bjorn made to ride off, but I grabbed his reins. 

"It's not something that concerns you. It's between me and your father."

"I am your commander, and your husband. Of course this concerns me. You know what happens when you keep prophecies to yourself when they clearly concern others. I thought we learned that years ago." 

Paris had been a disaster where prophecies were concerned. Sighing, I came up with a half-truth. "You have to be focused on other things. I told you I didn't want to fight anymore, so I won't. When we last spoke, your father called me his daughter."

Bjorn frowned, his temper dissipated. He knew how it would sound if this was suddenly a revenge campaign about Ragnar's sons and daughter. The men would follow the strongest. And as it stood, Valkyrie outweighed heir. "That still doesn't explain why Aelle was so scared of you." 

"How else could he have gotten a message to us in time? He only learned the day he died. He was deep in Northumbria, surrounded by enemies. He fed into their fears."

"Do you really think it's all that simple?"

"He wanted to protect me from something I don't need protection from. He underestimated me. Don't make the same mistakes he did. Not again." Moreover, Ragnar had been scared. In his final moments, he had been afraid, and that was one detail his sons could live without. At least until the raid was over. 

"I almost forgot what a bitch you can be." 

"Don't you dare call me names, Ironside. If you can't figure out I'm sick of this shit, I'll go to the Thing to get my divorce." I put my heels to Phoebe's flanks, darting off before Bjorn could respond. Us fighting would only decrease the chance of us moving past our differences. I had to remind myself of what was at stake here.

The battlefield was mostly cleared of the wounded, only a few scavengers were going past the corpses to find better boots or cut away clasps from torn, muddied cloaks. I reminded myself not everyone had the luxury of taking down tax collectors as I had. These people were here to keep their farms afloat, not just to avenge Ragnar. They had to fight to survive, as crooked as that was. I vowed to make sure as many as possible would make it home.

Back at camp, I wasted no time and headed straight for Harald's camp. He was celebrating, and with good reason. All of his men were bloody. There were still a lot left. Harald riled up the crowd to sing a song in my honor, but I had no taste for it. 

Halfdan realized something was up. He tore someone's horn from my hand and nodded off to the side before I even reached him. The crowd was thick with people trying to draw my attention, but they didn't follow me when I walked into the tent Halfdan that disappeared into.

"You don't look happy." He handed me the second horn. It was the same strong, dark stuff he'd drank on the way over. They thought it was done now, too. They had no desire to go after Ecbert, thankfully. 

"The first time we talked, you told me about your demons. Do they truly whisper about blood falling like rain?"

He inhaled deeply, lifted his eyebrows, then sat down. "Did Bjorn piss you off?"

"Aelle started it. Then Ivar tried to kill me."

"Huh. Heard as much. They always exaggerate. The version I heard, you caught an arrow he shot at you from ten feet away."

I stared in my horn. 

Halfdan sucked in a breath. "Okay. Well, if I had a demon that kept me alive like that, I'd consider it a blessing."

"It's not one that feeds me lies. It's one that takes over. I had no idea that arrow was coming."

"So... That story you stabbed Stew's dick off?"

"Also true. Have you ever had this happen? It's like... I feel such a need for blood. I want to see it drip down my skin. Feel the warmth of it." I stared at my hand. The blood had turned cold. Just saying the words out loud made the cravings stir. 

"Not to that extent. I want to destroy things. Crush all those that stand in my way. Hurt those around me."

"Does it ever take over?"

He hesitated. "I wish I could help you. For me, it's just their whispers."

I leaned my head on my hand, fingers raking through my hair. Then only the gods knew. This had to come from them. They were happy this was happening to me. But the moment I gave in, I'd disappoint Freydis. 

"What does it feel like?"

"Like nothing. Ivar tried to kill me, and I felt nothing. Only an hour later did I scold him to Kattegat and back. I barely felt anything for the boys."

"That's... I don't know what to say."

I closed my eyes. Now I'd started, it was hard to shut up. "It gets even worse. When Aelle was blood eagled - I just wanted to mess with his head, tell him his god was fake and the like. But then I looked up at Bjorn, and I-I felt so..."

"Angry?"

"Horny. I wanted to fuck his brains out. Thank him for making Aelle suffer. It felt like justice. Like it was the opposite of that-I've been calling it bloodlust. It was so much worse."

Halfdan got up. He walked over to my side of the table and took my horn from my hand. "Get up, you."

I did as he said, though I didn't understand what he wanted.

He grabbed hold of my upper arms and stared into my eyes. "You have been through worse. You're not alone in this. If you were blood eagling someone this close in front of me, I'd want to fuck you, too."

My breath left me. He was right. I'd never been alone. I'd always had the boys, and the children, friends. Even I was allowed my moments of weakness. I hadn't acted upon them, and that's what mattered.

I fell in Halfdan's arms. He pressed me up against him, my head not quite fitting under his chin. But it was good enough. He was there for me. My heart felt no worse for wear, having someone this close and caring. "How did you even know I needed a hug?"

His breath caught. "It's-It's what I imagine you would do for your kids. Or your boys."

I chuckled. His beard tickled my forehead. "Well, it's working. Thanks." I pulled him even closer for a second, then let go.

Harald stood by the entrance, eyebrow raised. His arms were crossed, fingers strumming his arm. "Bjorn needs to talk to us."

"I'll see you later," Halfdan said. "We need to get you drunk."

"Actually..." Harald turned his gaze to me. "He asked for all of us. It's not just about you, brother."

Something told me he meant that for me, too. I followed Harald out. Halfdan caught up with me, offering up my horn.

Great. I smiled, pretended to take a sip and as we moved through the camp, the beer sloshed out of my up here and there. Halfdan regaled me with tales of his side of the battle. The way he told of it, it was more of a dance to him. The movements and the precision were all part of it. 

"... and then she raised up her sword, but she took too long in bringing it down. My sword pierced right beside her breastbone, right here." He tapped the spot on my chest. 

Classic mistake. In battle like this, short and efficient moves kept you alive. That was the big difference with training on the beach. Beauty was for demonstrations and death.

I glanced over at Halfdan. How had I known that? It did annoy me when the twins were using swings and slashes that were too long, but I'd always thought of it as showing off. 

"I mostly shot at our own," I sighed. It felt like a betrayal of my people. 

"I'm sure they deserved it." Halfdan bumped his elbow against my arm. "Plus, you caught Aelle."

Silently, I entered Bjorn's tent. I sat down next to Sigurd again. They hadn't moved my seat. As I sat down I touched his hand, knowing the kind of look he threw at me. 

"Why is she even here?" Ivar snarled. 

Bjorn shot him a warning look. Floki hadn't joined yet, but it didn't stop Bjorn from beginning. "I think we can all agree today was a success. We'll pack up the camp tomorrow, then head upriver towards Repton." 

I froze. Repton? He wanted to go after Ecbert next? But why? My eyes shot up, but Bjorn looked certain. 

"We went there with Ragnar once," Halfdan said. "We know how to find Ecbert's villa." He wanted to go on, as well? Why was no one speaking up?

I didn't want to be here. I'd told Bjorn I didn't want to be part of these meetings anymore, yet here I was. I cleared my throat. "Can I ask, why do you want to go after Ecbert?" Saying the name out loud gave me shivers. The same eerie feeling as before crept up on me. 

"Why not?" Ivar demanded.

I sat back, glancing around the table. Bjorn raised an eyebrow, dared me to go against him. What was his deal?

"Well... I don't know. What about the fact he managed to get Mercia under his control? Or the fact he's raised a standing army? He had Athelstan translate military texts from Caesar himself. This isn't the same army you have faced before. They will be highly trained and professional, not some country bumpkins that never saw a sword before."

"Are you saying you fear them?" Ivar asked. He grinned, but his eyes were full of hatred and revenge. How had I missed that before?

"I'm saying Ecbert is not as easily beaten as Aelle. This-this could take weeks." I didn't have that kind of time. I turned to the adults. "You have to realize how a siege would end up. Why risk all that effort?"

Bjorn exhaled sharply. "Ecbert sold our father in some trade agreement. He's the reason Aelle got his hands on him, in the first place."

I'd never deter him from his plan. I could only hope to amend it, speed things up - if I even wanted to stay involved with the planning. 

"We should divide our forces up on the way to the villa from Repton out, and try to find any way we can use the landscape to our advantage." 

As I glanced over, Ivar looked way too smug. He'd wanted to kill me today. Had it been anyone else, they'd have been severely punished. Why would Bjorn entertain his ideas of how to wage war?

Something strange was going on. What had I missed? For fuck's sake, I couldn't leave them alone for a week without them making rash decisions. And then they chewed me out for being emotional. Morons.

"Any ideas on how to divide us?" Ubbe asked. 

Bjorn leaned back. His icy blues pulled me out of my brooding. "I was thinking the sons of Ragnar should stick together on one route, and the others join up for the second." 

That divided them three to five. Floki couldn't go against Harald by himself. Bjorn would want to keep Ivar close. Sending Ubbe over with them would be the only logical move, but still very risky. He didn't have the charisma to overpower Harald. It would be the perfect moment for Harald to make a move. 

I rubbed my temples. Maybe I should offer to go with him. Harald would listen to me better than Bjorn ever would, as would Ubbe. He would learn a great deal from seeing us haggle. Someone had to haggle with Kattegat's best interests at heart, and the experience to back it up.

"Agreed," Harald said. "We'll make good use of the Valkyrie."

I stopped rubbing my temples. Bjorn had already decided this. He'd told me on our way back, how I could lead as well as he. I didn't want to fight him, but if he kept challenging me like this, I'd snap back eventually. "I won't let you tell me what to do, Harald," I warned him. "If I'm to go with your half of the army, we'll go as equals." I avoided Bjorn's gaze. I'd tear him to shreds if he'd give me lip, now. 

"Wait, you already decided on this?" Hvitserk asked. "When did that happen? Auntie, you're going off with them?"

"Hvitserk." I barely shook my head. "Repton doesn't have space for all of us to moor at the same landing. It's a logistics call, but if we're smart we can make it an offensive one, too."

"How do you know that?" Ivar asked. "You've never been here before."

I grew tired of his bitching. "I know things, Ivar. Maybe if you listened to me every once in a while, you'd not miss a shot at my face from ten feet away." He scowled, but I wasn't done yet. I made my way over, leaning over him as best I could. "I'm fed up with your attempts to provoke me. If you'd been a threat, I'd have taken care of you already. But as things stand, you're but a pup nipping at my heels. Consider this your final warning. When our forces meet up again, I expect a sincere apology from you. Your mother would be ashamed of you."

He looked away first. It was as much as a victory as I could hope for.

Bjorn cleared his throat. "As I said, us brothers should stick together. We all need to make sacrifices." His eyes slid to me. His hard stare betrayed the anger he aimed at himself. Why would he pity himself? "How do you propose we divide the troops?" 

The boys looked up at me expectantly, but I had to admit I didn't have a clear-cut solution to this. "We'll take Waldemar, at least. He's more scared of Bjorn than he is of me. Graeme no doubt was insulted to be left out of the attack on the Saxon camp, so having the honor of going with you should placate him. What have those twins been up to so far?"

"I'm happy to take Vilhelm, but you can have Vilfred." 

I smirked. "As if. We'd both lose more men on the way there than we did today on the field. Those two and Bjarne have to stick together. Let them fight amongst themselves." 

"We'll take them, then. You can have Ingolf and Hjalmar to keep Waldemar company."

"What about those who went south with you?"

"They've all grouped together. You take south of the horses, I'll take north. That should even us out."

"No. I'll take the earls who fought on my flank today, then you can have what's left of Vic." I did not want Sif and Pam to be wherever Harald and Halfdan were. 

"You take Sigfrid then."

I narrowed my eyes. "You just don't like that it'll take too long to tell him."

"He only has three years on you, imagine how much longer it'd take me."

"Do we get a say?" Harald asked. Bjorn extended a hand. "I want Vic's remainder to travel with us." 

"Harald," Bjorn started, but he was cut off immediately. 

"Don't think to coddle me, Ironside. Only Ragnhild can match me where my resolve is concerned." 

Did he mean that as a compliment to me, or as a hidden dig? We hadn't seen the last of their plotting and scheming. I didn't trust Bjorn to keep an eye on them, nor anyone else for that matter. I could take on Harald if I had Floki as back-up. 

Bjorn leaned towards Harald. "And what makes you think I would lack that same resolve?" 

Harald just scoffed and sat back. Halfdan just sat there, enjoying his ale. His relaxed attitude only made me more cautious. Those two were up to something. 

"I want to go with them as well," Ivar said. 

Bjorn smashed his mug on the table. "I am still in charge here! I am open to suggestions, but you will not! I repeat, you will not do as you please!" 

I sat up a little straighter than before. It wasn't just me who'd been surprised by his sudden outburst.

"Why would you want to keep us together?" Ivar challenged. 

To keep sight of you, to keep you together, to keep you out of the way as I tried to get more intel on what those brothers were planning. Ivar would only interfere and stir the pot, making it more difficult for me and Floki to soften them up. 

Bjorn was willing to give up the answers I owed him for this would work. He put the safety of the kingdom above any personal gain. That was the sacrifice he paid to have us succeed. Us parting on somewhat friendly foot was his consolation prize. One less thing for him to worry about. In hindsight, it was so obvious. I'd be better off not worrying about Bjorn, too. Could I put aside our past to keep both of us focused on Ecbert? I'd have no choice. I'd need all my wits about me. 

"Because we need to talk about that strategy of yours if you want that to happen. Don't make me regret giving you that chance. The other four will know what to look for to complement your plan." 

Ivar simmered down. So that was the connection. Ivar had some plan that had convinced Bjorn to give him another chance. It must've been one Hel of a plan, to sway him after nearly killing me. He didn't dare go against Bjorn after those words. 

"And what about you?" Bjorn asked Harald. "Why would you want to take Vic's remainder?"

Harald shrugged. "Because my fiancée is amongst them." 

Bjorn bared his teeth and grunted. If this was the kind of bickering he'd endured over the past few days, I could understand his want to bring me back to the table. Having us fight kept the others back from testing him. 

Harald still wanted to live in his delusional fantasy. He still meant to take Kattegat for his own, and Bjorn didn't want to give away that we were on to him. Harald would have to die, and Floki and I would have to keep him satisfied until our camps met up again. 

"Is that it? You prefer a willing cunt to a balanced split of the army?" 

"She might not be that willing," Halfdan said with a sly smile. 

My jaw clenched in anger. "You had better not mean what I think you mean."

"What's she to you?" Harald asked. 

I got up and looked down at him with hard eyes. If he so much as lifted a finger in Sif's direction I would stab off his dick. He could join Stew in Helheim, for all I cared. 

"Auntie has a... strong opinion on the subject," Ubbe said, trying to break the tension. Harald's eyes flashed in his direction, and he must have seen something that made him back down. He didn't dare look me in the eye anymore and held up his hands in deference. 

I took in a sharp breath and sat down again, slowly. I kept a scowl pointed in his direction. From the corner of my eye I saw Floki carefully sitting down, his eyes flashing all over to take in the mood. 

"Okay then," Bjorn said after a long and awkward pause. "If you insist, you can take Vic's leftovers." Harald didn't dare speak up, and just nodded curtly. "Ragnhild, you take point. Inform those who will travel with you of the plan. I'll take care of my end." 

At least Bjorn had succeeded in making sure Harald wouldn't necessarily be in charge of our side, yet. It all depended on who the earls would follow, and if I would be the one to ask them, they would be more inclined to follow me. Especially dressed like a Valkyrie.

Harald kept up his moping as I turned to the boys. Hvitserk looked pensive for once, while Ubbe shot me a knowing look. I gave him a slow blink to let him know I had his back. He sat up straight, keeping back a smirk. 

Halfdan patted his brother on the back. "Oh, lighten up. You'll have plenty of chances to woo her properly this time."

"How can you still care for her after what she did?" Sigurd asked. His voice betrayed he was fishing for information. Harald didn't notice, but he refused to answer, still. It became pitiful, he wasn't up to talk about Sif after I burned a hole through his skull. 

"It's easy to fall in love," I said. "Falling out of it… That's a whole different story." I didn't dare look at Bjorn after my words, I was too afraid of what I might find there.

"What would you know about falling in love?" Harald snapped. 

"I had a life before I came here. I was 23 back then. Do you really think I just waited around for me to be brought here by the gods?"

"You once told me you had been with someone before you came here," Ubbe said. Were we really going to talk about my previous love life? This couldn't be more than just passing interest. The boys were up to something. Had Sigurd meant to pull information from me, instead?

"She doesn't like talking about that," Floki said. 

"Why not?"

"Ivar," Bjorn said menacingly. "Stop it." He knew what kind of shit was buried there. Either that, or he didn't want to be confronted with the thought of me being with another man.

"We're sorry, auntie," Hvitserk said. He really looked to be sorry. "It's just that, with all those offers of marriage coming in, we just wanted to know if you would consider another husband someday."

Offers of marriage? Who had those been directed at?

Bjorn. He'd kept them from me, on purpose. The gods knew I wasn't ready to deal with that, but to have Bjorn keep them... He was still my husband, but he had no right to keep this from me. If any man thought to propose to me, they should be more concerned with my response than Bjorn's wrath over chasing me before the divorce was official.

He knew he'd screwed up. He didn't hide the sorrow in his eyes, not from me. Was he sad about being caught, or about being replaced?

"We only want to know if you're ready to move on. We all know how long it took Bjorn to gain your trust." Sigurd hid it well, but he was pushing for me to open up. Had he asked me in private, I'd have answered him. Who did he hope would hear me answer?

Fuck. They were on to me. They must've realized I'd come here with the intent of winning Bjorn back. The boys really needed to work on their timing. Come morning I wouldn't see Bjorn until Ecbert was defeated, and after that, we'd be heading home. I'd get my divorce from Bjorn, one way or another. If he didn't agree, Lagertha would finalize it for him. 

"I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine. I'll have plenty of time to worry about stuff like that when we're on our way back to Kattegat." The pressure of having to seem okay and in control weighed me down. "If you'll excuse me, I still have some packing to do."

Swallowing back the tears that would inevitably come soon, I made my way back to my tent. I just wanted to be alone for a while.


	47. Shatter Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 23-05-815

Half a good cry later, I packed what I could. It wasn't much, but I'd want it packed properly. Carrying too heavy things on board of a ship wouldn't be good for the baby.

I also didn't want to get to the earls just yet. I'd woefully neglected my duties so far, and though for good reasons, I'd have some explaining to do. Not that anyone would ask outright. 

When the packing was as far as I could expect it to be, I had to bite the bullet. Despite his bad breath, Sigfrid was always happy to offer his sage counsel to those younger than him and seemed so promising for the future. He also was an early riser, which meant I had to get to him, early.

"Earl Sigfrid! Good evening, how are you?" I asked him with a cheerful smile. The men around him were too busy getting drunk to notice me, thankfully.

"Ragnhild my dear, how lovely running into you like this. Will you join me for a celebratory drink? Please, I insist. I wanted to share some tips on how best to lead archers. You did fine for your first time, but I think I can give you some pointers to do even better in the future. You see, the thing is, while -"

I had to stop him before he went on for three hours. "I am so sorry earl Sigfrid, I'm afraid I only have time to say hello and give you an important message from Bjorn Ironside. I have to deliver several more before morning."

"Your husband? Well, I'll be. Just a cup of tea, then? I love that mixture you told me about when we ran into each other last time. It's done wonders for my health." I imagined it would, if he replaced half the ale he drank with herbal tea as was the rumor.

"Oh, alright, you've convinced me. But only one cup, you sly old devil. I know your tricks by now." I joined him at his table and first talked about our children and their exploits, as was only proper before delving into such delicate matters as urgent messages. His breath had become noticeably more pleasant than before. Halfway through the second cup, he finally turned the subject to Bjorn's urgent message.

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten! By Loki, you fooled me again." My cheeks were sore from all the smiling. "Well, Bjorn was thinking we could try that idea you once mentioned, a two-pronged attack? He's got a rather good grasp of it, he can still very clearly remember you outlining the pros and cons, but with the children and all, he's afraid I might have forgotten some crucial details. He wanted me to ask if you'd be so kind as to sail with my group, so I'd get up to speed again."

Gods forbid, a woman who knew about strategy. Or remembered things, and wasn't constantly occupied with her children. What would the world come to, if women were asked to multitask? I'd made the mistake of going against him once, and I would never again do that. Some men weren't worth the trouble. Manipulating him into doing what I wanted was the easier path to take.

"Really?" Sigfrid sounded honestly surprised Bjorn had even remembered his monologues. He hadn't, of course, but Sigfrid had mentioned it about five times. "Why, I'd be delighted, of course! I'm sure we'll find some time to work on your leadership skills as well, and my wife had some ideas about that dress you wear into battle. She was thinking of adding a kind of bridal crown, and she would be willing to braid your hair in the shape of wings, you see. That would really be the finishing touch, she says. Of course, she just prattles on and on and on about it, as if your sense of fashion is lacking. You sure know how to get men to follow you!"

I kept back from throttling him. "I'd be delighted, to be sure. We can talk some more on the importance of boat maintenance as well, I heard you had some interesting ideas about that." Sigfrid was simply delighted at my attentiveness. I had to get out before I'd dropkick him into the next century.

"Oh, nothing gets past you, does it? Well, except for this old fox, of course!" He raised his teacup with a bright smile. I hated myself for having to smile back at him.

"I won't fall for your tricks again, earl Sigfrid! We mean to leave tomorrow morning."

"My dear Ragnhild, it's been a delight. I'll take proper action, as soon as I've had a chance to recuperate from the battle." I gave him a simple bow and left him behind. As soon as I was out of sight from his table I rubbed my cheeks to get some feeling back into them. He had brought 700 men, and that was worth the effort and time he took to be steered in the right direction. With one down I still had eight to go, and it was close to sunset. I figured the rest would be dealt with in the same time it took Sigfrid to get to the point.

The next camp was that of Ingolf, who required a much different approach.

"Earl Ingolf!" I shouted from a short distance. He raised his head up. "We leave in the morning. Follow Harald's flags, not Bjorn's." He made the same gesture again, and that was two down. Ingolf always brightened my day after having talked to Sigfrid.

The camp I'd saved for last was that of the late earl Vic. The thought of having to tell Vic's son he was to follow Harald was not a pleasant one, and I already looked forward to my bed afterward.

They were already packing things left and right. Pam spotted me from a good distance away. She darted in a tent right after. I hoped it was to tell the new earl I was coming towards them, not to hide. She was still out of sight when I reached their tents.

"Excuse me," I told one of the men, "I'm looking for earl Vic's son." He did a double-take and his eyes went wide as he recognized me. He got nervous, but not in a good way.

"I'll uh... I'll get someone for you. Please wait here." 

Something strange was going on here. Except for Ingolf, all the earls had invited me to sit down at the least and offered me a drink. After a minute or two Sif came out, dressed in black, with a boy no older than Freydis at her side.

"Valkyrie. What may we do for you?" 

Ignoring her stiffness, I bent down to the boy and gave him a kind smile. He had a mop of brown curly hair, and otherwise only shared his mother's green eyes. Sif had left very little of herself in the boy.

"Hi there. My name is Ragnhild. What's yours?" Sif clutched the boy's shoulder tightly, but he smiled back.

"I'm earl Siegmund. It's nice to meet you, Ragnhild." Sif didn't dare interrupt her son. I wondered if Harald knew about the boy. If he considered Sif to be his fiancée, the kid was part of the deal.

"I can see your camp looks very busy. Are you packing up already?"

He nodded his head. "Mother says we'll go back home tomorrow."

"Really?" I said, glancing up at Sif. She looked dead ahead, her lip trembling. Someone must have told her what the plan was, and now she tried to make a run for it. "Well, I have a surprise for you. Do you know who Bjorn Ironside is?" He got a big smile on his face. "He heard how bravely your warriors have fought, and he'd like to tell you so himself. Do you think you have some time to come with me?"

Even if she tried, Sif couldn't hope to run away with her son. The boy and I looked up at her, he with a smile and me with my eyebrow raised. Sif should've known better. She might have made it out if she'd be honest with Bjorn about her concerns. 

"Be back soon," she said, then turned away. She was close to crying. "Bring him back to me," she whimpered.

"Mother? Are you okay?" 

I lightly touched his back to guide him off. "I'm sure she's just so proud of you for having done so well, and that she misses your father."

"You heard?" A pout appeared on his face.

"I did. I'm so sorry. I heard he was a great man."

"There is this woman who can kill the man who did it. Pam told me so. But she didn't want to do it."

"I'm sure that woman must have had a good reason to say no. Come on, Bjorn is waiting for you." No doubt he'd have sent off the boys to contact his side of the earls, taking a break himself. The boy extended a hand out to me, which I took automatically. The boys had started to rebel against such things at that age, but Siegmund was very much a mother's boy. Even Freydis had grown more conscious about it since a year or so. It felt comforting to hold on to a hand so small. When they were still small, it was easier to protect them. The worst they could do was bang their heads or scrape a knee.

"Why did my mother call you Valkyrie?" he asked out of the blue. "You're too short to be her."

"That's because of a little joke, actually. Your mother and Pam mistook me for her a few days ago, when they only saw me from behind. My hair is alike, and I'm almost the same size."

He took me in again, not buying that I was that tall. "But that's not funny." 

"Grown-ups can think the most boring things are funny. That's why children are so much more fun."

"Do you have any children?" Siegmund didn't look to have had any training yet. Curious, for an earl's son.

"I do. You're very kind to ask." He smiled proudly. "I have a son and two daughters. The youngest is about your age, I think. She's six."

"I'm six, too. What's her name? I don't have a lot of friends."

"Her name is Freydis. I named her after the goddess."

"I like that name. I got named after a dead ancestor. No one even knows what he did. How do you know Bjorn?" 

The kid had a nasty habit of asking all the right questions. "We met about fourteen years ago in Kattegat. We became friends and stayed in touch."

He sucked in a sharp breath. "Then you must have known Ragnar as well! Was he really eight foot tall?" 

I laughed at that. Already people made him sound like a legend. "He was only seven and a half foot tall, but don't tell anyone I said that." The boy smiled and said he wouldn't. 

"Can we really just walk in?" Siegmund asked as we reached Bjorn's tent. Was this how normal six-year-olds behaved? Freydis seemed so much more serious. She'd never been boisterous, but her pensiveness worried me sometimes. 

"You can if you're with me. Karsten, could you tell Bjorn that earl Siegmund is here, as he requested?" The guard eyed us warily for a moment, but as he saw the look on my face he went to get Bjorn.

"Wow," Siegmund said as he stepped inside. "Mother says what happens here decided what the entire camp does."

"Not everything here is important. Bjorn sometimes hosts dinners here as well."

"I want to be there one day." 

I looked up as Bjorn came in. He'd barely pulled his shirt straight. I willed myself not to think about why he'd taken it off. 

"Earl Siegmund! How good of you to come by." He gave the boy a firm hand, then shot me a questioning look.

"Ragnhild said me you wanted to thank me. But I have to tell the truth," he said with a sad face. "I didn't do anything."

Bjorn laid his hand on the kid's shoulder. "That doesn't matter to me. I know you just became earl, and a good earl always listens to his advisers. And if those advisers made your men fight like that, it's because they trust you, and believe in you. And that is plenty to achieve at your age." Bjorn could be so good with small children if he chose to. The reminder stung.

I looked away. His bed in the corner didn't show any signs of having been slept in by some skank. He'd probably just washed up. 

I forced a smile to my face. "When I came to pick him up, earl Siegmund told me they were already packing up to go home. His mother, princess Sif, told him we were all going back home soon."

"It was an honor to fight by your side," Siegmund said solemnly.

Bjorn's face betrayed nothing. "Likewise. Did you like it? Going on a raid?"

"I did. Until father died."

"It's always hard to lose your father. You look up to him and want to learn from him, but then someone takes him away from you. We're all here because Ragnar was like a father to all of us. What if I told you that we could go on for a while, and no more terrible things like losing your father will happen?" 

I'd been right. I could never hope to persuade Bjorn with an attitude like his. Losing his father had affected him more than he'd let on. It only lay written in between the lines on his face.

Siegmund's eyes lit up. "Really?" 

"Yes. We just heard that there is another kingdom, with an evil king who was also responsible for my father's death. If you want to, we can fight that evil man together, and get vengeance for both our fathers. Would you like that?"

"Yes! We'll have to tell mother. She wanted to leave at dawn."

"We'll go tell her right now. I'll come with you." Siegmund clasped Bjorn's hand and practically ran out of the tent. He gave me a nod. He would take care of Sif, no doubt.

"Thank you, Karsten," I told the guard. He nodded at me curtly, then resumed his distant stare. Finally, I could try and get some sleep.

My tent was already robbed of most of the things I'd packed. The boys must've been worried about me after dinner. It was so much like Hvitserk to try and make amends by doing something nice for me. I'd find my stuff over at the other camp. 

Despite the fatigue, I couldn't fall asleep. The conversations with Bjorn kept mulling through my mind. For once he seemed to have listened to me, really listened. I hadn't shouted, he'd been too surprised about my answers to shout back. Maybe we were finally getting somewhere. 

My heart wanted me to shout at the top of my lungs. He still cared. We could work through this. But it didn't work like that. We'd gone through too much. I'd learned too much about where we had gone wrong. How likely it was that we'd make the same mistakes again. I couldn't risk falling for the same trap again, not with another child on the way.

I had to protect my heart. That was how I could protect my children. All eight of them. I had to focus on my little sprout. And after the battle against Ecbert, I'd set Ivar straight. For now, I had to focus on keeping Harald in check. 

Desperate to move around, I got up and slid into a simple dress. Outside, barely anyone was still up, with us moving out tomorrow. I went to Phoebe, hoping she could comfort me a little. She seemed to be asleep though, and I didn't want to wake her up. Perhaps I would be better off trying to get some sleep, as well. At least lying down would give my body some rest.

On my way back, a dark, huge shadow approached. Only few men were that tall. "Bjorn," I said as he stopped before me. "What are you doing up?"

The light of a nearby torch warmed his face. He looked horrible. The lines in his face were still clear as day. This was more than age or his normal stress. "I could ask you the same. Don't you have to rest for your wound to heal? I saw the boys moving your stuff onto Harald's ship before you brought in Siegmund."

As I'd thought. "I've got a lot on my mind. I thought a short walk might help." Even if I'd manage to fall asleep, the night would be filled with nightmares. Once upon a time, Bjorn had stilled them. He had chased them off, simply by being at my side. But now we stood opposite of each other.

"So do I. What's bothering you?"

I shook my head, not wanting to tell him the truth. "All kinds of things. The kids, mostly."

He stepped closer. "You don't have to lie to me. I know you're troubled over having killed so many people." 

I gladly jumped onto that train of thought. "I feel terrible. I keep reminding myself this is about something bigger, but when I see the carnage up close… How do you deal with it?"

"Don't look at it. They're enemies, they meant to kill us." I rolled my eyes at his simple answer. "It gets easier. The first time is the hardest, but after that, it gets easier. It always gets easier."

"I'm not so sure about that." My heart cried out how hard it was to let Bjorn go. I'd hoped to see him one last time before we'd split up, but now I felt insecure. We were bad at being friends.

"Just try and keep it together until we catch Ecbert."

There it was. As if I'd fall into a bout of hysteria when I'd have to kill one more person. "That sounds like you don't trust me."

He closed his eyes for a second. "I gave you half the army. How can you even think I'm not trusting you?" 

"You threw me into a lion's den. You gave Harald those men, not me. I can dress up all I want, but he is a king."

"Those men followed you during the battle. You gave the earls their orders. Besides, you seem to be getting on with Halfdan well enough. You've got more allies in that group than you think."

"It's not the same. I know why you split us up the way you did, but that doesn't make it any easier."

"You'll see the boys again soon enough. It's only for a few days. Don't worry about that prophecy." I blinked. "The one that said they would only be fine with you around. We'll join up before the fighting starts."

I hadn't even thought of that. It wasn't just the boys I'd be missing, but how could I ever admit that? Some small part of me wanted to keep on fighting with him. It was better than not seeing him at all. Despite everything, a few slivers of hope remained in my heart.

Bjorn took my hands in his. He meant to touch me this time, it wasn't out of lust or by accident or because he thought he needed to, as had been the case for a long time. "You'll do fine. Don't worry about it too much. Just pretend you're herding a group of children." 

"I'm not worried about being in charge," I said with a soft voice, not daring to look up at him. "I know we'll be fine."

"Then what is it that keeps you up on a night like this?" He took a step forward. He wanted me to say things I felt but didn't believe anymore.

"It's…" It's you, Bjorn. I wanted to scream at him for making me blow up our marriage. Did he still love me? How could he still care for me after all the lies and deceit, but not understand how he forced me to decide between keeping him and my health? How did we let it get this far? "I'm worried about you. You're making some strange decisions."

Bjorn frowned. "Like what?"

"Ivar tried to kill me, and that same night you're speaking in favor of his ideas." He scoffed. "I'm serious. What the fuck was that all about? You went to war over your estranged father dying, but when he damn near kills the mother of your children you let it slide?"

"You didn't look that bothered when it happened. I thought you knew what you were doing. Damnit, I based half this plan on keeping him away from you."

"So you agree with him? You're telling him he was right to try and kill me. You're only making this worse."

Bjorn leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This way, I can keep an eye on him. If he's a threat, I'll take him out."

"He's your brother."

"So? You killed yours to keep me safe, once. You thought he wouldn't go that far, either. We talked about this before. Just because we're related by blood doesn't mean we have to give him special treatment."

That conversation hadn't related to this, though. "Ivar's not as bad as my father."

"Yet. You don't know what he's up to, or what will happen when he grows up. He's fourteen, and with that behavior, even Aslaug would be worried."

I rubbed my temple. "What is it with you men and only thinking of the short term? This will come back to bite you in the ass."

"And I'll deal with it then, when I'm not surrounded by children and enemies. I'm not ignoring him, Ragnhild. I'm dividing the best people to deal with the problems they can handle best." If only I could believe him.

"Like you handled those offers of marriage? If you didn't want that to reach me, you shouldn't have told the boys."

"Hvitserk was there when one of them came up to me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to focus on a raid when everyone asks to bang your wife?"

Just how many proposals had he gotten? I'd figured most of them were for political gain. It was well known I couldn't bear children. "Why would that matter if we're about to get a divorce?"

"I'm not talking about this." He turned away. 

So again I had to play by his rules. If he was that adamant, I'd show him. I stepped after him and grabbed his arm. "Then why did you cheat on me? Or is that a forbidden subject as well?" 

I could strangle him, but I'd broken my own rule. I didn't want to hear the truth. It paralyzed me. But now I'd brought it up, I couldn't let go. A soft breeze passed between our icy stares.

"This is not the time nor the place to talk about that."

"I need to know, so I can move past this."

A fire lit behind his eyes. Bjorn let go of my hands and walked back towards our tents.

Fuck. The way I'd phrased it, he must've smelled an opportunity. An opening to worm his way back into my heart. I wasn't ready to have Bjorn begging at my feet. What else could explain his behavior? Still, I followed him. When we got back to his tent he offered me a drink.

"Drinking will only make me feel worse," I lied.

He poured himself a healthy cup. He drank deep, then sat down next to me.

I couldn't look away from his face. This was it. He'd break whatever desire I had to still be with him. "Will you please tell me?" I moved to the edge of my seat.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

"No. But I'm asking anyway." Anticipatory sorrow flooded up. So many nights had I gazed up at the ceiling, wondering what had brought him to do it.

"I wanted to hurt you." He studied my face. "You hurt me, Ragnhild. You tore out my heart and left me with nothing. I never thought you would lie to me. Did you really think I would never notice?"

"I didn't want to lose you. I was scared." My cuticles had to be trimmed. I pushed them back with my nails. 

"So was I, for three years. I worried that you weren't fertile anymore. That you blamed yourself for not being able to give me another child. I kept telling you it would happen eventually because I thought you blamed yourself. I worried you would slide back."

I'd hated him for pushing me like that. It had kept me drinking yellow tea. His words had made me feel like a breeding mare. "I didn't want to die." I looked at him through my lashes. He hadn't wanted to talk about it, but here we were. Adulting. 

Bjorn stared at his mug. I'd always blamed him for it, his genes. I'd been wrong to take that out on him. But his desire for children had driven us apart in the end, the fact he couldn't be satisfied with what he had. Just like Ragnar had made a mistake taking in Aslaug.

He cocked his head. "Wait, how..." 

"You know how I get when I'm with child. It's all that matters. You saw for yourself how badly I wanted Kol to survive over me. I didn't want to feel like that again, and the next time there would be even more on the line. It would've gone the same with a fourth pregnancy. How could I ever choose between what I had and a fourth child?" My voice shook. "How could I ever want to give up my life for that child, knowing I'd leave three children in this world? How can you not see how badly that would tear me apart?"

He frowned, his eyes back on his cup.

It hurt to see. He realized what had been the problem. Because I'd been stubborn, and spiteful, and scared to death. Because I'd been scared of how badly he could've hurt me by leaving.

It was too late for us. I didn't want to go back anymore. There was too much we'd said and done. I'd wasted too much time on pride; I was better off finding someone new. Both of us were.

But at least we wouldn't fight as much over the children. I didn't want to constantly fight and bicker and argue. Now we were clearing the air, there was only one thing I could think of that would bring us back to the brink of war.

"How many did you sleep with?" I asked.

Bjorn swallowed a big gulp. "It doesn't matter."

"Can I expect one to pop up and proclaim you to be the father of her child?"

"You taught me enough to know what to look out for. I was horny, not dumb." He hadn't thought with his dick. That meant he'd been deliberate... Which only made it hurt more.

"Accidents happen, Bjorn. I taught you that as well. What if some woman suddenly shows up one day claiming to carry your child? Or already gave birth to one?" There would be no way of testing for the truth, and with his reputation, any woman would be believed.

"Ragnhild, please. If I tell you not to worry about that, can you please assume I'm thinking of the children and their birthright, and not about fooling you? Whatever happens, Thormund will take over from me."

I sighed, he'd never meant to displace the children. At least he cared about them that much. Still, he was too casual about discarding Siggy as his heir. She was our eldest, and just as capable of leading Kattegat after Bjorn had died.

"So what, you gave all of them a cup of yellow tea? You do realize that sometimes it enhances the chance of conception, right? Not to mention you could've killed any one of them."

"You can't judge me for doing what I did, not with your choices." Bjorn had thought that far ahead, with every one of his conquests? I truly didn't know whether to be impressed or disgusted.

"You were callous. You endangered those women's lives. What if you'd killed Astrid? How would you have explained that to Lagertha? Did none of them realize how strange it was you brewed them some tea, afterward?"

"If you must know, I made it in a large batch and offered them some water after we fucked. I added some honey to hide the taste. Most of the time I pulled out."

I leaned back. It was insane. It could've gone wrong in so many ways, and somehow he'd never gotten into trouble before. But with his fame growing, so would the chances of a woman coming forward, be it true or not. He was convinced he'd always been careful, but my own belly was proof of how fast things could go. "Still. Man plans and the gods laugh. "

He finished off his ale, ignoring my lingering worries. "I have a question for you, too. Why did you never mention it?" He took another long drink from his mug.

It was only fair. He'd been honest with me, it was the least I could do in return. "Because I had to be strong."

Bjorn sighed as if he'd expected as much. "You felt the need to prove yourself. That's why you refused to divorce me?"

I sucked in a breath of air, then hesitated. I closed my mouth, letting the air escape through my nose. This was a different question, that had a different answer.

"All I wanted was a chance to explain myself. A calm talk, like this one. I was too emotional for that before. You weren't ready to listen." I'd still loved him too much. Looking at him now, the small lines around his eyes betraying how he felt, I just felt empty. Relieved. "When Ragnar came back… We had some stern talks before he left."

"Did he know you would come here?"

"He asked me to consider it. He wanted me to stick up for-" No. Not yet, he couldn't know yet. Not the night before the army split up, not before he'd agreed.

After what he'd just told me, he would jump on the chance to have things like they used to be. I wasn't sure if I was strong enough to say no.

"Did you know that Lagertha still loves him? Ragnar. She loved him until the end."

His eyes flicked up to mine.

Fuck. He'd take that to mean I still loved him. My face warmed up. I swallowed. "It's getting late. I should go." I rose up, knowing it was a poor excuse. If anything, I'd confirmed his train of thought. Shit. I'd meant to dissuade him, not make him even more likely to chase after me. This was only getting worse the more I spoke. 

Bjorn held out his arm. "Ragnhild...

"I should go." My voice cracked. "Thank you for your honesty.

He stuck out his arm. "Wait. There's something I want to say. Please, stay for a little longer."

"Bjorn, I -"

"I'm sorry. For hurting you on purpose, and for what I tried to do at the range." I pressed my eyes closed. "I know it was stupid."

"It was." I turned away, hiding my pain from Bjorn's sight. "You know of my past and what I've been through. What made you think it was in any way okay?"

"Don't start shouting, please. Mother already told me off about it for what seemed like hours."

If only I'd been a fly on the wall for that one. I raised a hand, almost touching his. I wouldn't find Bjorn in such a talkative mood again. Now was the time to lay it all out on the table. "What was the other night about, for you? When I came back from the camp?"

"Relief, mostly. I thought I'd never see you again. And that dress… You're still beautiful. Seeing that much skin, it made me long for the days you only dressed like that for me. Why didn't you resist?" He turned his hand, the palm showing.

My hand hovered over his. "I wanted to feel you close."

A finger touched his palm. 

I gasped, raising my hand.

He looked up at me, wanted to reach out. He was just as desperate as me to connect. Would it give me closure? One last time? One last kiss? We wouldn't see each other for at least a week. It didn't make sense, but it felt right.

"Please, stay a little longer. Before we part, I want to feel you close."

My fingers shook. His hand remained up in the air. I had to say no. I meant to break away from him. We needed distance. I needed distance. It was too easy to give in. It was too much. 

I put my hand in his.

He pulled me closer, until I sat down on his lap. I let him. One last good memory was better than leaving now with a shattered heart. Only once. One last time, to say goodbye.

His breath warmed my neck. Our fingers entwined. My cheek touched his, my lips dragging over his skin. He brushed his fingers through my hair. I pulled him close. His hands slid over my back, pulling me closer, grasping at my dress, pushing me down on his lap.

Our foreheads touched. This close, I couldn't look away. Neither could he. He let a hand slide down my back, past my hip, until it rested on my thigh. I let out a ragged breath, mind overtaken by memories and desire. His eyes held a question. One last time, my lips said. One last time we'd find comfort in each other's arms. It hurt me down to my bones. It felt right.

The kiss deepened. I got to my feet, then sat down again, my knees beside his thighs. His hands slid to my breasts. My heart sang as it got ripped to shreds. I clutched at his shirt. He pulled on it, then took it off. I rose up enough for him to undo his pants.

He'd gotten so many new scars. I didn't know their stories. They were strangers to me, in the same way Bjorn had become a stranger. A memory, too distant to recall with certainty. I felt them all, thanking the gods his wounds hadn't taken him away from me. I had no trouble finding the scars left from the crossbow bolts he had caught in Paris. Back then our love had seemed eternal as the sun.

Our tongues rediscovered each other, full of passion and sorrow. Bjorn lifted my skirts. He slid down in his seat, his hands leaving me shortly. As he looked up at me, wonder in his eyes, I lowered down. A longing sigh escaped me. I sank on his lap, wrapped my arms around his neck. I would miss the feeling of his cock inside of me.

Bjorn held me close. His dick pulsed as a soft groan left his lips. He loved this so much. I'd missed this. That first touch, the connection. It hurt my heart to move my hips, to slowly fuck him. His breath touched my neck. I threw my head back, clinging to his neck as I rode him, loving the feel of his cock this deep inside of me. I sighed, gasped for air as he took hold of my hips. He pushed me down on his cock, grunting as he slammed into me. Then again. And again.

The jolts of pleasure running through my body hurt me. Making love to Bjorn hurt me down to the deepest parts of my spirit. I didn't want this to be the last time. I'd waited for this for over three years. I didn't want to come yet. This bliss should've lasted forever.

"Oh, fuck," I moaned. I needed to feel the release, it had been too long. I'd had never felt that conflicted over an orgasm in my life. And still, I kept riding him, even when I felt like crying. I'd never thought to end it all like this.

"Keep going," Bjorn groaned. "I want to feel you come around my dick. Oh, fuck. I missed this. Fuck, oh, keep fucking me. Don't stop." His fingernails dug into my shoulder. Every muscle in my body contracted. I put my head on his shoulder, moaning in his neck as I spasmed around his dick. He pulled me close, ground his hips against mine. His body tensed up, and with a satisfied grunt, he leaned back. He held me close to his chest, brushing his cheek against my hair.

It was truly over now. All there was left to do was get off him and leave him behind. One step at a time.

I didn't. Not yet. For just a few seconds, I wanted to feel him close. One last time, I wanted to kiss him. One last time, I wanted to feel him inside of me, hard as ever. One last time… I didn't want this to be the last time. I wanted to keep sitting here like this, keep fucking and kissing and caring for him until he was the man I'd fallen in love with.

Bjorn searched my face, his hands sliding over my back.

I couldn't linger. I couldn't have him comfort me anymore. I had to find another way to deal with the pain. This had to be the last time. "Good luck tomorrow," I whispered, bottom lip shaking. My eyes burned from tears waiting to fall. "May the gods be with you." I got to my feet. One step at a time, I walked away from him.


	48. Bad Romance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 24-05-815

"Well, look who the cat dragged in," I said with a smirk as Halfdan stumbled aboard. He shot me an annoyed look. "You look like a chewed-up rodent."

"Shut up, you demon whore." He dropped his stuff aboard and lay down, groaning as he found a place in the shadow. 

I leaned in close. This was too good an opportunity to miss out on. "You know, they say that when you get hungover like this, it means you're getting old."

"Fuck you!" He swiped twice, but didn't hit me. I laughed as I stepped back. Floki fared only slightly better, but at least he wasn't a whiny brat about it. He made sure Helga and Tanaruz were comfortable on the front of the ship. 

"You sure you don't want to sail with us?" Harald asked a last time. "The way your boys fretted over you getting your stuff on board, I'd think you're still hurting from that wound."

"They're just overzealous." Especially after their intervention last night, but considering my late-night visit with Bjorn I couldn't blame them for thinking I still wanted him. Bjorn must've been giving them some signs as well. The boys were smart enough to put two and two together.

But after last night we were done. We'd both said the words. One last time. And though I wasn't sure if it had brought me the closure I needed, knowing it was past me dropped a weight off my shoulders. "Besides, I wouldn't dream of leaving Phoebe in someone else's care. I only came by to watch that shipwreck roll aboard." Also, Bjorn's ship was a long way off from Harald's. Seeing him would only hurt.

"Well then, keep the river clear for us. See you in Repton."

"I will. Good luck getting that one awake when you get there." It was only a short distance by ship, but it was better to use the boats to sail inland than try and get through the thick forest between here and Wessex. Everyone who had a horse had found someone willing to travel across the land with me.

I disembarked and waved a last time, then went to the clearing where the horses were saddled up. It would be at least two days of hard riding, but Phoebe was in good spirits. At least she'd slept well.

"We leave in half an hour," I told the group. Most of the warriors were archers, but some swords dangled from the saddles as well. Some familiar faces had joined in on the chase after Aelle. "Put on a dark green or brown cloak if you have one at hand." I checked my luggage to see if it would hold for at least the third time today. 

Floki came stalking towards me. He looked tired, but now I got a closer look I realized it wasn't from drinking. He'd been working on a project all night. Maybe something nice for Tanaruz.

"You should get ready to depart," I said as I fastened my cloak. "The sun has already gotten away from us." It lurked above the trees, already.

"Not before I give you what you are owed. I was wrong to come between you and Bjorn." He held out a package. 

Wary, I removed the cloth. Floki wasn't one to apologize, he preferred to grudgingly admit his wrongdoing and moving past it. The scraps of fabric hid a wooden stave.

I gasped. "You didn't." I clutched the wood, tore it from its confinements. The string was taut as a warrior before his first battle. 

I pulled it back. The resistance felt like an old, familiar friend. "This is amazing. You must've been working on this since..."

"Since Halfdan came by with the one he unsnared. The stave had lost too much power already. I've been working on snaring it since you got hurt, but since Aelle's death I've been working on this."

I pulled him close. "Oh, thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me." I'd be able to shoot off arrows without having to risk breaking my neck. I was back at full strength.

"You'll be going up there alone. We can't have you risk your life for ours again, now can we?"

Protective runes lined the stave, calling on Freyja to keep me safe. Floki's eyes went down to my stomach. "It's not just yourself you need to protect. Bjorn is putting a lot of faith in you."

I touched his arm. "It won't be misplaced. You'll see. I got my head back in the game. We can focus on what's important now." Harald wouldn't make it out of England alive, if he was serious about wanting to keep Sif close as he conquered the rest of Norway.

Floki grumbled, then let it slide. "If anything should happen, make sure you can let us know. Wherever you are, there must be at least one ship near your party." He took the horn from his side and gave it to me. 

"We're sticking to Aelle's side of the river. No one would dream of attacking us." I hugged him again, then watched him go off. 

With Phoebe fully locked and loaded I was as ready as I ever would be. "Alright people, time to get moving." Two men who were familiar with the river went in front of me, as I had a feeling I'd just manage to get lost. One of earl Siegmund's advisors rode next to me, as we had a lot to discuss before we reached Repton. He had insisted we be followed by two of his servants, and I hadn't cared enough to go against him. As for the rest, I made sure the melee warriors were equally distributed, and the riders on the rear had shields on their backs. They wouldn't do much to protect against a well-placed English arrowhead, but at least we'd hear them shout if they were hit.

"Once again, just let me say how terribly sorry we are for the misunderstanding, Ragnhild. Princess Sif and her friend have made a fool of us all, we are so glad to you accepted our apology so gracefully, as well as your husband, of course..." 

I did not want to spend six hours talking to a second Sigfrid when we made it to Repton. At least he kept his voice down. "Ulbrecht. Stop apologizing, or I will rescind my acceptance of it. I want to talk to you, and I expect you to be honest. In return, I will show you the same courtesy. Can we talk as equals?"

"Of course, Ragnhild. What do you want to talk about?" His kind face showed no signs of nervousness. He was here to make sure he wouldn't get caught in the crossfire, convinced of his own innocence. I'd have to start on a different subject than him.

"How much influence does Pam have on Sif?" 

Ulbrecht sat back in his saddle. I pretended not to notice. "Pam is of no concern, I promise you."

"Since when? I thought we were being honest."

"She tried to convince Sif to run away, despite her better judgment. Believe me, she has lost all her sway with Siegmund's advisors." Then why had I seen Ulbrecht carrying boxes like the rest, as if he had agreed with it all?

"How long have Sif and Pam known each other?"

"About seven years, I'd say. They became fast friends when the princess agreed to marry earl Vic. Young earl Siegmund was conceived on their marriage night." It made sense as far as the calculations went. They would have been married shortly after Uppsala, when I'd found out I was carrying Freydis.

"Did they not meet before they married?" Arranged marriages were par for the course, but Sif had turned down plenty of proposals. As Aslaug had been, Sif was a princess in her own right. She wouldn't have married down without a good reason. Vic didn't have the same charisma as Ragnar, though. Why would Sif pick an average earl to settle down with?

"Once, and it was love at first sight. It was all put together quite hastily, as they couldn't wait to be wed. I oversaw the preparations myself."

"Do you remember earl Vic fondly?"

Ulbrecht's smiled widened as his mind flooded. "Oh, yes, very fondly. Vic was very kind to his people and was known as forgiving yet sensible. He dabbled a bit in poetry and loved to hear musicians play. Truth be told, he never seemed all that interested in the Viking lifestyle of raiding and pillaging." And the raping. Let's not forget about that. "He'd often send his brother to lead the men, but Valrik passed away last winter as we were hit by a plague."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. Two such great losses so soon after another must be hard on your earldom." 

Ulbrecht blinked a few times, excusing himself as he wiped a fly from his eyes. Viking men and their lack of emotions... Ulbrecht turned to me, his eyes considerably drier. "Might I ask you a question now?"

I extended a hand. "Of course. A conversation usually goes both ways."

"Is it true Pam and Sif asked you to kill that bastard?"

The trees fell away as we hit a small gap in the woods. The sun touched my face. "Not in that many words, but they made their intentions clear."

"Why did you refuse?"

"Because Sif made a promise to Harald, and then went back on it. She only turned to me to make the problem go away. As far as I know, she'd made no attempt to solve the problem herself, first. I'm not here to clean up other people's messes."

"Hmm. Curious. Pam told me you refused because you're said to have an affair with his brother." Interesting. More people thought Halfdan and I were fucking, but no one had dared make a comment to my face. Just like the men were afraid to propose to me to my face. Had Bjorn heard the rumor?

"As far as I'm concerned, I'm still married to Bjorn Ironside. Only after our divorce is finalized will I even think about another man. I'm friends with both brothers, but I assure you, I have remained faithful to my husband. I have no knowledge of either of them having taken an interest in me, and that is mutual." 

He eyed me warily but accepted my answer. Pam had no influence on him anymore. That, or he didn't want to admit to my face he thought I'd been fucking Halfdan. He was way too scrawny to have a good fuck, anyway. Bjorn had been- 

"Then your decision was based purely on Sif's actions?"

"Indeed. I hold all life sacred, as all life is given by the gods. For that reason, I have never accepted a sacrifice being performed in my honor. At one point I sacrificed a goat in Uppsala, but in doing so I sacrificed my own innocence. Since then I haven't taken another life myself." At least, that's what I told myself. Lately, there had been many extenuating circumstances.

Ulbrecht huffed as he lifted up his chin. "I am livid to hear Pam was behind such a filthy lie. It has been moving through the camp since you turned them down." In that case, I had to have a talk with Pam soon. And Bjorn. No, not him. Even if he did think the rumor had merit, he wouldn't care about it. I shouldn't care about what he thought. "I honestly don't understand how they can still be such close friends. Pam had always been the driving force behind Sif's more, err, dubious decisions. Sif has not allowed earl Siegmund to learn how to fight, for one, and, well... The boy is awfully feminine, if you ask me. If earl Vic has failed on one account, it's raising his son to be a man. I hate to speak ill of him, but he always shut me down when I made to speak to him about it." 

Pam must have been pulling the strings on Sif, and she in turn controlled her husband. Interesting dynamic, especially now Sif was no longer in charge. No wonder Ulbrecht felt so confident. His riding beside me with a retinue of his to follow suit meant he was the leader of Siegmund's advisors, equal to even a Valkyrie. Bold move. 

I couldn't stop a sideways smirk. Ulbrecht knew what he was doing. "Did Pam and Vic get along?"

"Most certainly not! They avoided each other as much as they could, it's well known in our court. Why do you ask?"

"I'm trying to decide if Sif had any reason to go along with Pam as she decided to try and flee. We still have to decide on their fate." Shit. Bjorn had to decide on their fate, not me. This was so annoying. I had to change the way I thought about everything. When the camps met up he would want a full report on all of this. Maybe I could avoid that. Tell Harald instead, have him deliver the news. 

"Yes, of course, you're very sensible about all this." Ulbrecht's information not just subjective, he was also too eager to please me. 

I just couldn't put my finger on it. Something weird was going on in that earldom. I had to trust my gut. But there was something else I needed to take care of, first. "If you'll excuse me, I have to relieve myself. Do carry on, I'll catch up shortly." Ulbrecht nodded and I took off to the side, creating some distance. The train went on. I swallowed hard as they passed by.

My stomach churned again. I barely hit the ground before I threw up. It wasn't much as I'd skipped breakfast. The pig's blood before the battle yesterday had warned me this could happen. Going by land to keep this from sight of everyone had been a good call.

I rinsed my mouth and chewed on a few mint leaves. After rinsing once more I got on Phoebe again, patting her neck before I urged her to a trot. Before we had gone five meters, I had to throw up again. I groaned as the bile tried to force its way up again. This was going to be a long day.

By noon the sickness subsided, and we pushed the horses to go on well into nightfall. A clearing near a river bend gave us some shelter for the night as we huddled together, while on the opposite bank some familiar songs echoed over the water. It must've been from one of the last ships to set sail this morning. I made sure not to give myself a turn to stand watch. I'd probably fall asleep, anyway.

The second leg of the journey was calm, but still, I was glad when we made it to Repton. My mind overflowed with reasons why it had been a mistake to fuck Bjorn the night before. When that didn't plague me, I was stuck remembering all the moments he'd shown me just how much he loved me.

The camp was already set up, my tent next to Floki's and Helga's like before. Opposite of the path lay Harald's large tent. Though I'd rather just gone to bed, I forced myself to join them for a late supper. 

"So, everything went well today," Harald said as I sat down. "Everything's set up, everyone got here. We'll stay here for two days to forage, then move on to Ecbert's villa." Harald had wasted no time getting back in charge. I was too lethargic to care.

I waved my hand in acceptance, all too glad to have some fresh water after a long day. Floki and Halfdan didn't have any objections, either.

"You look tired," Floki said.

"You'd be tired too if you spent two days listening to earls and their bright ideas. That Ulbrecht is like a waterfall, it just doesn't stop. I thought Sigfrid was bad." He'd gone on and on about how good of an earl Vic had been, and how Pam had become the bane of his existence. I'd have welcomed a diversion from Sigfrid and his endless talk about grain storage during winter.

Halfdan snorted. "It's widely rumored he likes men as if he were a woman. Of course he knows how to talk on and on."

Some life returned to me. My eyes singled out Halfdan. "So? Why would that matter?" Lagertha had taken Astrid for her lover. Torvi sometimes joined them as well.

"It's unnatural," Harald said with a sneer.

I put down my fork. "Does that just apply to men, or women as well?"

"Women are different," Halfdan said as he waved a hand. "They just don't know what they're missing."

I scoffed as I took my cup in hand. "Oh, I don't know. I can remember a few times a woman was just what I needed." Still, my mind drifted off to Bjorn. Ever since we'd started seeing each other, he'd been enough. I hadn't even thought about other men or women with him around. He'd always been enough.

Harald was taken aback. "Did you? I'd not have thought."

"I was young and wild once. I've not always been a mother. Bjorn tried to explain it once but I don't understand why it matters where Ulbrecht likes to stick his dick. As long as it's consensual, I couldn't care less." 

The brothers glanced at another. "You have some interesting ways of looking at the world," Halfdan said. It was a way too diplomatic answer, and I'd have had enough of those for one day. 

I felt like stirring the pot. Now the subject had come up, I wanted to get to the bottom of this. It kept me awake, at least. "So it's normal here to keep it to yourself?"

"It usually attracts the wrong kind of attention," Floki said as he waved around his fork. "I'm trying to eat."

"Did that Ulbrecht have anything interesting to tell?" Harald asked a bit too casually.

I wouldn't let them bury this. "I thought you were all about the free love, how come it's a shame to admit you prefer your own gender over the other?"

Floki gave up on dinner. "We talked about this before. It's about having children. You can't get those from shooting up the wrong hole."

I rolled my eyes. "Like children are everything." Floki gave me a nervous look. "I'm not defined by my children. Being a mother is only part of who I am."

"We know that, Ragnhild." Halfdan's stare told me I was pushing it.

I'd barely noticed my anger. I picked up my fork and returned to my meal. "Ulbrecht kept it fairly general, I couldn't exactly torture anything out of him. From what he told me -" He'd cared for Vic. Very much, in fact. He'd almost started crying.

"He told you what?" 

I shook my head. "It's been a long day," I said with a sigh. "He mostly told of some rumors and how Pam has been controlling Sif ever since they met." Another quarter fell in place. I put a hand to my face and rubbed my forehead.

"Are you sure you're okay? You look... a bit out of it." 

I wanted to run outside and go find Sif, but I had to tread carefully. If I was right... "Just a long day. I'll get to bed early tonight." I ate my food in silence while my mind went into overdrive. If Vic and Ulbrecht had been in a secret relationship, and Sif and Pam were as well, who was Siegmund's father? It was the perfect cover story for both Sif and Vic, and would explain why they got married so fast.

It all fitted together just a bit too well. I had to confront Sif about it. Her refusing that many offers of marriage, making a vague, long-lasting promise to Harald. She'd tried to run because she was scared someone would find out, not just because Harald had killed her husband. And for Sif to get pregnant before a marriage was arranged... Holy shit. Could it be?

I glanced over at Harald. Siegmund barely had any features belonging to her, but from what I remembered... 

I jumped up as I knocked over my cup. "Oh shoot, sorry about that." I had to find out for sure. I couldn't handle not knowing if my theory was right. "I'd better get to bed. No, I'm fine, it's just fatigue. Floki, really, I'll be fine. I'm just going to get some fresh air and get to bed." After walking a few meters, I stood still for half a minute to make sure they wouldn't be following me. A guard came out, but as he saw me waiting for him, he immediately turned around. Predictable cunts. Never send out a woman to do a man's job.


	49. What We Do in The Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 25-05-815

I walked off at a firm pace, wanting to find Sif as soon as possible. Most people in the camp were too busy finishing setting up or didn't expect to see me around dinnertime, and I still knew how to find the shadows. The dark was perfect for it, and I still wore my dark cloak from the road.

Sif stood inside a large tent. A servant got sent out. Ulbrecht sat at a table, he was the target of her wrath. I kept my head low, shoulders dropped, hood

"Ragnhild? What are you doing here?" Siegmund looked up at me, surprised. 

I froze. As I took in his face, my doubt diminished. Sif had even tried to cut his hair since I last saw the boy, trying to make the resemblance even smaller.

"I have a message for your mother. But it's very, very important that no one knows she got it. Can you give it to her for me? You can only tell your mother, and only when no one else is around. Can you do that?" 

He seemed hesitant, but nodded his head.

I softly stroked his cheek. The poor boy, he deserved better than to be a pawn in all of this. "You're very brave for doing this. I need you to tell her to walk upriver tomorrow at noon. I really need to talk to her but no one else can know. I'll find her. If she can't make it tomorrow, or if you can't tell her before then, I'll be there again the day after."

"What's it about?"

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry. But I'll make sure to get you something nice if you succeed, alright? I have a friend who can make very nice toys." When Floki heard about this, he'd no doubt make the kid a mountain of toys. This just might be the leverage we could use to get Harald to back down from his quest to take over Kattegat.

"Okay, I'll try."

"You're a good child, Siegmund. Your father would be proud of you." The boy smiled up at me, and I kissed him on his forehead. "You'll be a great leader one day." 

He scattered off, heading straight for the tent. He froze in the opening. The tent got pulled shut. It was out of my hands, now. 

I sneaked out of the camp over a darkened piece of fence. I wanted to scout ahead and find a good spot for the meeting tomorrow. This was exactly the kind of dangerous behavior I had to stay out of. After only ten minutes of walking I found a good spot, out of sight of the river and no clear paths around. 

No one was around. I could breathe. At long last I was alone again, truly alone. No archers around me, or tents, men strolling by as they whispered the latest gossip.

No one waited for me. No one needed me for something. No one expected me to return shortly.

It could've been years since I'd felt free like this. There'd always been the kids, or the kingdom, or the boys. For just a moment, there weren't any expectations. No pressing matters. Harald handled the camp just fine. 

It hurt. My breathing grew ragged. I couldn't handle feeling useless. Others had always depended on me. First the boys, then Siggy and Ragnar, Bjorn, the kids.

My face scrunched up. I only had the kids and the boys left, now. When was the last time I'd truly cried? After I'd found out Bjorn had cheated on me more often? Then why did it feel like there was a piece of my heart missing, shaped as him? 

I sank to the ground, back resting against an oak. The leaves barely let through a few rays of fading sunlight. How could he still hold such power over me? How could it still hurt to miss him? 

I should hate his fucking guts. I should be asking Freyja to curse his dick! "Why did you give him back to me! I know it was you back in Uppsala!" My head banged against the tree bark. The warmth of tears crossed my cheeks. I'd asked her. It had been my fault. I'd wanted him back, and we'd fallen back in the same patterns again. 

Eyes closed, facing the sun, I let the tears fall. Years of pain and resentment rose to the surface. It poured out.

I didn't want to be alone. Now I finally had what I'd been craving for in the back of my mind, all I wanted was to be home. Know the kids were off in town, have Sigurd come by for cookies and tea. I wanted Bjorn to be with me, never having cheated at all. But I couldn't have it all. There was no way Bjorn and I would ever go back to how it all was. Not even the gods could help us. Not even Freyja could give him back to me. 

"I remember," I whispered, opening my eyes to the dusk. Fat tears rolled down. "You wanted to make me happy. You didn't want to give me Bjorn. Did you know? Did you see how we'd end up?"

The tears slowed down, at last. My eyes must've been bloodshot. Freyja's magical seidr was the strongest around. She was the one that blessed Seers and Seeresses with their clairvoyance. If anyone had known how Bjorn and I would've ended, it was her. She'd known. She'd given me exactly what I'd asked for. 

Still, I refused to think of it as foolish. Had I not wanted Bjorn back, I'd never had gotten pregnant with Freydis. She was a blessing until the end of my days. Despite the hardships. She'd been worth it, and now, at the very end of it all, I'd get another child, earned through all the pain and betrayal.

I'd love this child just as much. I'd damn well survive giving birth to it. I hadn't come this far only to lose it all. My sprout would grow strong, just like the twins. I'd make damn sure of that.

I wiped away my tears. I'd learn how to deal with Bjorn in time. It was okay to feel sad. I didn't have to be strong all the time. I could take my time adjusting. This raid was almost done and as soon as we got back to Kattegat, everything would fall into place. Just a few more days, a week at most and we'd be making plans to return. It was just as the Seer had said. I'd found what I wanted back then, but not what I really needed. I'd find that back at home.

I got up, taking a deep breath. I should return to camp. I'd been out long enough. Though my cheeks felt rubbed raw, my spirit felt a lot lighter. Crying like that always helped clear my mind. I'd make it through. I always did, because I had help. Because I wasn't alone and I could rely on my friends. 

I wasn't alone. The thought haunted me, echoed through my skull. A cold sweat broke out on my skin. My heart skipped a beat. My whole body grew ready to attack. Why did that damned bloodlust show up, now? No one was around for -

Crouching, my eyes slid over the unkempt shrubbery, the thick, gnarly trees that cast long and wide shadows. There were so many spots for anyone to hide. What if Sif would lash out after my message? She'd know where I would be at what time, and that I'd be alone. 

I was a fool. She had all the information she needed to build a trap. Fuck. I had no idea what to expect. If Pam still had any influence, she'd no doubt push Sif to act against me. Fuck, what had I gotten myself into? 

I had to go back to the camp, but if Sif's people saw me, that would give me lots of unwanted attention. Or I could stay hidden here and wait for any signs of an ambush, and circle back after that. I didn't even have any weapons with me, not even a knife. I had to at least be able to defend myself.

Circling back towards the camp, but before it came into sight, voices approached. Their voices carried; they weren't scouts. Sif had moved too fast for her own good. Fuck, I was too tired for such a close call. At least she hadn't thought ahead far enough to imagine I'd want to check out the surroundings, too. 

The shrubbery grew tall enough to hide me, easily. Underneath the growth, I could make out their feet trudging past. Two pairs.

"... dumb cunt, if you ask me."

"That's just how they function. They've always been loopy."

Another two pair passed by. I wanted to suck my breath but it would make too much noise.

"You really think that? She sent us out to kill her."

Warmth spread through my veins. I had to hold back on the bloodlust. I was unarmed. I couldn't risk it.

"Why'd you think I got this rope? She'll cuss us out come morning if we return with her dead. If she still feels .... tomorrow ..."

Another few pairs. Three or four? I couldn't be sure. They were at a larger distance than the others had been, closer to the river. The voices passed out of sight. 

I waited until even their footsteps were out of hearing, then stole a glance in the direction they were headed. They had passed me by. Still, I made sure to stay under cover of plenty of trees before I dared to run back to the camp. 

Fucking bloodlust. They would've found me crying up against a tree had that curse not warned me. 

I slowed down as the scant light would betray my presence to the camp guards. If Sif or one of her men saw me and told her, I'd lose the advantage I had. I needed to find someone I could trust to shimmy me back inside. Someone like Floki, or Helga. Or Halfdan. I couldn't afford to be picky.

Floki usually took a shit before he went to sleep. I decided to wait near the latrines in hopes of finding him. I could maybe throw a rock or something to draw his attention, but only if he was there alone. More importantly, I needed to move to a place less downwind before I'd throw up again.

Perhaps a soft sound? I couldn't whistle, damnit. Calling out was too dangerous. Oh, fuck it, wasn't it just a better option to barge into Harald's tent and tell him of my suspicions and get him to round up Sif's men? Why hadn't Bjorn given me some of the men from Kattegat to back me and Floki up? Fuck! I hated having to make decisions with this little knowledge of what was to come of it. Times like these brought back why Ragnar hated ruling. I needed someone to bounce ideas off. I-I needed Bjorn. 

What would he do? If the camp was not an option, what would be? The camp might have been well defended, but someone had to have minded the boats overnight. And I might just have more luck finding a weapon there, or someone I could borrow a bow off, maybe someone I could send off to deliver a message. I had to try. 

The boats were not far off. I headed over, the dark path trampled from the many boots that had crossed the once lush path. New, calmer voices and slowed my pace, staying near the edge of the forest to avoid stepping on branches. I hid behind a birch when I could make out the words. 

"... fucking woman is giving me a headache."

The silvery paper of the tree broke as my nails scratched it. My eyes shot towards the darkening sky. My lips offered a prayer to Freyja.

"Can't really go against her, can you? Hot piece of ass, though." 

"Don't let her hear you say that. She just knows things, it's freaky."

Halfdan cleared his throat. "Well, if you see her escort her back, please. I'll tie her to a tree when I find her. Fucking running off all the time. Ironside said this would happen." 

A set of footsteps came close, and I had a feeling they would belong to Halfdan. I had to be sure though, and I let him pass me by. Looking for me, my ass. I followed him, just to get out of range from the boats.

"Halfdan," I whispered. He pulled his knife. "Behind you." He turned around as I got up from my crouch.

"Ragnhild?" He looked over my shoulder, knife poised. 

I closed the distance between us and pulled him to the edge of the forest for some cover. "I need your help. I'm in deep shit." I put my hand on his wrist. 

He sheathed the blade. "No kidding. Where the fuck did you run off to?"

"No time to explain. When was the last time Harald saw Sif before the raid?"

He stared at me, then let out a chuckle. His eyes scanned the forest to our side, then turned back to the camp, only to return to me again. "How the fuck should I know?"

"Think about it. Hard. I need to know."

"Err... about... six, seven years ago?"

Fuck. "Listen up. I need you to listen, not react rashly, and do as I say. My life depends on it." 

Halfdan sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I mean it. I just came across at least seven men sent to kill me." His eyes grew intent. "Long version short, Sif's kid isn't Vic's. Harald is the father. Sif knows I know, and now plans to have me killed to hide it."

Halfdan narrowed his eyes for a second, then shrugged. "Eh. Makes sense. What do you want to do?"

That wasn't the response I'd thought I'd get. I took a second to straighten my face. "We have to contain this before Sif and Pam know what's up. Ulbrecht might be in on it as well. If their men see me walk into the camp, they'll know I came across their men and Helheim will break loose. I'm not sure how to go about this without your brother finding out, though."

"Why do you want to keep it from him?"

"Have you ever known him to keep his cool around that bitch?"

"We could just go in and kill them."

"I was hoping for a more elegant solution. Less death. Something not quite as obvious. Since we don't want Harald to find out yet."

"Why were you out in the woods in the first place?"

"I wanted to scout ahead. I sent Sif a message to come meet me tomorrow, and on my way back I barely avoided her men." 

Halfdan sighed again. "Never a dull day with you, is there? Fucking idiot. You're not even armed, are you?" His eyes slid to my waist. He knew I didn't wear a belt. 

I crossed my arms. "I just wanted to talk. She turned it into a free for all."

"I'm not having this discussion with you right now. You'll go in to meet her tomorrow, unarmed. I'll make sure to take some men on patrol and take out her men. You get her to talk, so we'll have plenty of people to listen in on her. Can you live with that?" That was actually not half bad. I'd have to trust Halfdan with my life, but I could hardly count on taking out an unknown number of enemies and still get to talk to Sif. 

"I don't want to go in unarmed."

"It's the only way she'll talk." He raised an eyebrow. 

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, so I'll have to trust you."

Halfdan nodded his head towards the camp. "Come on, we have to get back." 

On our way, Halfdan kept sighing, then looked away. When we were almost near the gates I wanted to shy away, but Halfdan pulled me along by my hand. Halfdan walked on as if nothing had happened. Even better, he started yelling at the guard.

"Oi, fucktards! Ragnhild just walked fucking past you. Wake the fuck up!" He let go of my hand before anyone could see. The guards started to apologize profusely, but Halfdan just kept on walking, and I was right beside him. Sometimes things didn't have to be complicated, apparently. That was a whole new experience.

"Get some sleep," Halfdan said as he nodded towards my tent.

"Not going to tie me to a tree?"

"Don't give me any ideas. I might be willing to help you, but that doesn't mean I'm not pissed at you."

"At least say hi to that boat guy for me. Keeps him on edge." 

Halfdan sighed and walked on. "Fucking women..."


	50. Take Me To Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 26-05-815

I woke up nauseous. This was not how I’d wanted to start the day. I barely managed to make it to a cooking pot lying around among my stuff. Judging by the activity outside, people were bound to spread the word I'd thrown up. After my sudden absence from dinner last night I could put it on that and avoid any questions. Not everything needed to be complicated, as Halfdan had taught me.

Having to be unarmed when meeting Sif had me feeling a different kind of queasy. I didn't want to underestimate her again, not a second. Against Halfdan's advice, I wanted to bring along at least something to defend myself with. The Kris knife wouldn't fit in my boot, but I still had the steel knives with me. I wrapped the edge with leather and shoved it in, creating a crude sheath. With a long dress over it, no one would be the wiser.

Halfdan came by just in time to catch a glimpse of me emptying the pot. He didn’t care in the slightest. “You ready?”

“Just about.”

He glanced at my ankle. "Get rid of that knife." 

Scowling, I dropped the pot and withdrew the knife. 

His eyes lingered on the blade. “What’s wrong with that knife?”

“The fact it’s not coming with me.”

He reached out. I hesitated, then let him hold it. He’d hold my life in his hands in less than an hour. If I didn’t trust him with that knife, I was better off letting Floki take care of this problem for me.

“Should’ve told me you like shiny things. I’d have gotten you something nice so you’d forgive me for scarring your daughter.” 

I scoffed, looking forward to him cutting his skin open on the sharp edge. 

He looked into the light over the edge and whistled. “Don’t give me that look. I heard the rumors. This is one of your knives from back home, right? Kept its edge for over a decade.” He scratched at a mark left from sharpening.

My mind wandered to when I’d bought them. The idea of a store like that was more dreamlike than being on a raid like this. Knowing I’d killed people was less foreign.

Halfdan handed the knife back. “Keep it here. If Sif sees it, you’ll be responsible for the bloodbath that follows.”

I nodded. As Halfdan walked off, I slid the knife back in its sheath. I couldn’t afford to die.

Floki and Helga sat outside their tent. Helga offered me some food, but neither asked about Halfdan visiting. 

"Stomach bug," I told them as I nodded to the pan. Two women walked past, looking like they weren’t listening in at all. Their silence betrayed them. "Must've been bugging me last night as well."

"How awful," Floki said with a raised eyebrow. "At least you slept well. And very, very long."

I cleared my throat. When I was pregnant with the twins I'd been tired as well, but that hadn’t started until the fourth moon. I was certain to be only two moons along, this time. This had just been fatigue. "I was thinking of exploring for a bit. I could use some time alone." 

"Bring your bow," Floki said. "No one noticed us yet, but that's only a matter of time." 

Great, another problem. After breakfast I got up and got out my bow and a quiver, smiling at Floki as I walked past. Between them and the entrance to the camp I came across Alfhild, the blacksmith that had taken care of Phoebe’s shoes.

"Morning, Alfhild. This quiver needs a new lining, got time to work on that?"

"Sure. Just put ‘er on the table. Be done in a bit."

"Thanks, I'll come by this afternoon." I left my quiver and accidentally dropped my bow as well. Floki would kill me if he found out, but if I’d taken it with me, Halfdan would’ve done the same. 

The forest was peaceful and quiet, but I kept my guard up. I couldn’t find anything out of the ordinary, though, which made me feel even more nervous. Even the birds didn't seem bothered at all. Halfdan was out here somewhere, and so were Sif's men.

I sat down on the spot I'd found yesterday and faced the river. Bjorn would hate me for having gotten into this mess in the first place. The boys would just sigh and chalk it up to my being a mother and wanting to care for everyone and everything. If the twins had been with us, however... Being a mother already interfered with my thinking as it was. And Freydis... Just thinking of her made me come back to earth. If she hadn't told me what she had, I was sure I'd taken even more risks than I had so far. I couldn't let her down. I wouldn't.

Sif walked through the trees dressed in a beautiful light gown, radiating innocence. Her mourning period had gone by rather fast.

"Sif! Over here." She looked up and came towards me. I got up from the grass and looked her in the eye. She was taller than me, but I wouldn't let that intimidate me, despite the haughty look in her eyes.

"I'm not accustomed to receiving such summons, Valkyrie."

"I'm not accustomed to having to give them. We have to talk."

"This close to the camp?"

"I know where the patrols are headed. I made sure we won't be interrupted." She eyed me warily, then relaxed as she couldn't find a weapon. "I want to know about your son."

"What of him?"

"I know he's not Vic's."

"What makes you say that?"

"He's Harald's, isn't he?"

Her eyes widened for a flash. "How is it you just know these things?"

"I just do. Harald raped you. My guess is that he grew tired of having to wait for you."

Sif’s shoulders dropped, eyes solemn and hurt. "He said he just wanted a taste to keep him going."

"He shouldn't have done that." But would I be in a position to do anything about it? Was I dumb enough to put my morals above the safety of my people? Of my children? I held back from reaching out to her.

Ragnar had thought me a fool. It was the reason he wanted to keep me back. In his mind, I lacked focus. In mine, I battled over morality and ethics. Protecting Sif now would mean open war against Harald, without allies to back me up. I’d die. 

"Then why join a raid? No doubt there's been a fair bit of it happening, with those brothers leading the charge."

"I can't change the mind of every Viking I meet." I could only pray the boys would never stoop that low. I’d taught them well. “I had to experience it for myself, and I know how it can drive you to do desperate things.

"Really? Am I to believe your sad little story?"

"I'm not here to argue. I just wanted to know for sure why you'd do such desperate things. If I can help you, I will."

She laughed at that. "Like you helped me when Harald killed my husband?"

"I asked you if there was more to the story, and you remained silent. I will not kill a man because I am asked. We have laws in place to deal with such things, and you know that." And I knew how poorly they took care of women in practice. 

"Are you sure it's not because you want Harald to become your brother?"

"Halfdan and I are friends, that's all. What else has Pam been telling you about me? I'm sure you hear everything from your lover first, right?"

Finally, she moved. One of her eyebrows rose up. "How did you..."

"I don't care. I honest to the gods, don't give a fuck who you spend your time with."

Her hand found her chest. She breathed in loudly. "You could've had me killed."

"And yet, I chose to speak to you alone. What does that tell you?" Sif's eyebrow remained in place. "You let Pam convince you I wanted to kill you, didn't you? She was the one to convince you to try and run. I don't get it. Why would you ever let such a woman take control of you? Surely you must have noticed."

"You don't understand! It's all so easy for you, isn't it? You have a husband, and children, and everything you do just works out fine. I was so lucky to find her, and then run into Vic after I found out I was with child. If I lose her..."

I sighed. "Did she threaten to oust you all?" Sif just stood there, trying to keep in her tears. For all the trouble she caused us, I felt her pain. I wrapped my arms around her. "You must have felt so lonely."

She broke apart in my arms, crying out all her fears and pain. We sank to the floor and I held her, feeling emotional myself as well. Though our situations differed, the hurt was the same. Losing a long-time partner, having all safety torn away, keeping secrets that could alter your life… I held her close and pretended it was someone I cared about that hugged me tightly.

"I don't want to be alone," she sobbed after a while. "But I don't want to live like this anymore."

I brushed a thumb over her cheek, not knowing what to tell her. Instinctively I wanted to tell her I'd help her, but I had no desire to be trapped between her and Harald, or having to worry about another child during the remainder of the raid.

The birds stopped singing.

"You have to tell Siegmund," I said. "He has to know his father is still alive." At the least I could help her come up with a plan.

"No! Harald would take him away from me. I can't let him take my son away. Ragnhild, you have to keep this a secret!"

I steeled my heart. Her panic tore at my conscience. "You are now the regent, and you must find a way to make sure your earldom is not thrown into chaos. You have more than just your son to worry about."

"I don't care about that. I—I just can't face him, Ragnhild. After what he did to me... I'm terrified of him." A thick tear rolled down her cheek. 

"You're Viking. You have to face him sooner or later."

Sif dried her eyes and stood up again. "No. No, I won't. Not if Harald will never find out. I'm sorry to have to do this Ragnhild, but you leave me no choice. Canute!"

I took in a deep breath as I rose up as well. "Oh, Sif. You shouldn't have done that." Her jaw dropped as Halfdan's men came from the trees. Blood clung to their blades. "That was a very, very stupid thing to do."

She looked at me in terror, then her eyes flashed above my head.

A weight landed on my shoulder. "Well, fancy meeting you here," Halfdan said. "That peaceful enough for you?"

"It'll do."

"No, Ragnhild, please... You have to understand, it was Pam, she—"

"She wasn't the one who called out to her guards to kill me. Don't humiliate yourself." Sif wrapped her arms about herself. She knew she had lost.

"Alright boys, take her in," Halfdan said, looking around to see how many of his men were still able to fight. 

A knife flashed my way. 

I could barely avoid it with Halfdan still leaning on my shoulder. I sank down and grabbed my own knife. From my crouch, I lunged forward and stabbed Sif. The blade pierced her stomach.

She dropped the knife and sank to her knees. Her eyes were filled with terror.

"Fucking bitch!" Halfdan shouted. "She fucking hit me!"

My hand still held my knife, and it was still lodged in Sif's body. Her blood trickled down my hand. Adrenaline rushed through my body. Fear told me to run. The bloodlust told me to stab her again. Neither overpowered me. My mind was still my own.

I pulled out the blade. Sif sank to the floor.

"I'll fucking kill that bitch!"

"Halfdan. Shut them the fuck up. She's already dead."

"She's still breathing!"

I glanced up at him. A barely visible cut on his cheek gave off a few drops of blood. "Give it twenty minutes." The acid from her intestines would make sure of that. I knew how to keep my knives sharp. 

"You can't know that!"

"I do. I just know. Now tell your demons to fuck off!" I needed quiet to think. Would it be best to bring her into the camp while she still breathed, or would it only cause chaos? "We need to arrest Pam and Ulbrecht, they must have known what was going on."

Halfdan grumbled, keeping his stare lingering for a few seconds as I imagined his throat being slit, instead. All it took was a tiny nick, a flick of the wrist. My cheeks flushed.

"You heard her. See to it," Halfdan told the men surrounding us. "Bring them to Harald and wait for us. Don't tell them anything. Not even my brother." The men moved out without hesitation. "What do you want to do about her?"

I sank down and turned Sif's body over. Already she looked pale. The anger within me subsided. Was I starting to control the bloodlust? Or had it simply not been as strong this time? 

"Is there anything you'd like me to tell your son?"

Sif stared at me with angry eyes. "You... Stupid..."

My eye twitched. The knife had slipped to the other side of her throat. It dripped with blood, red warmth soaking my hand from the wrist down. No one called me stupid.

"Ragnhild?" Halfdan asked. He pulled me up and grabbed hold of my arms, staring into my eyes intently. "Are you..."

I felt dead inside. Freydis, I had to think of Freydis. I was still her mother. Rubbing my eyes with the back of my clean hand I reached out to my feelings. "One of my demons. I'll be fine in a minute. Let's get her back to the camp." I wiped my knife off on my skirts, then put it back into my boot. Halfdan picked up her body and together we walked back to the camp. 

“I saw those eyes before,” Halfdan said. “Those aren’t whispers.”

Sif’s limp body hung over his shoulder. Her blood still trickled down on the grass and Halfdan’s shirt. 

I shivered. “I can’t always control it.”

“I don’t believe that. You knew exactly what you were doing. I’ve never seen anyone kill with such precision and efficiency.”

My eyes glanced up at him. He’d never given anyone a compliment about their fighting before. Then again, killing wasn’t the same as fighting. “It wasn’t me.”

“I think it was.”

A stab ran through my heart. I wasn’t a monster. 

“You always told me you weren’t just a mother. I never really believed that until I saw you trying to kill Stew.”

“It’s not who I am,” I stressed. “I’d rather be just a mother than… Than whatever made me do that.” I pointed at Sif. 

“You had every right to kill her. She went for you, not me.”

I sighed. “It’s not about that. I just… I’m the type to bring her in and have Bjorn deal with her. I don’t go off on my own, killing people who deserve it.” 

Despite it all, it had been just. Halfdan was right about that, but I should feel bad about this. Instead, I felt desperate that I didn’t feel much else. This was dangerous, whatever it was. Even though I hadn’t gone in as deep as before, I wanted nothing to do with it. If it meant I never would fight again, so be it. 

On the other hand...

It had saved my life. Twice now. That curse made room for logic, and fearlessness, and pulling through. It hadn’t come out unless I’d needed it.

The camp fell silent as Halfdan and I walked through the gate. Most had figured out something was going on already, probably having witnessed the guards dragging people away into Harald's tent. 

Floki and Harald already waited in the tent as we entered, staring at us in silence. Ulbrecht and Pam sat at the other end of the table, hands and feet tied. Pam lost her composure as Halfdan followed in after me. Ulbrecht hushed her, but no one else paid her any mind.

Harald sank down in a seat as Halfdan laid down Sif's body. "Does anyone mind explaining what happened?" 

Halfdan put his hand on his brother’s shoulder. "She tried to kill Ragnhild. It was self-defense.”

Harald’s voice broke. "And why would she try and kill you?" Confusion, sadness, and mistrust raged across his face.

I couldn’t look him in the eye. Even though he’d caused this himself, I felt the weight of his pain. "I found out a secret she was willing to die for."

"You bitch!" Pam shouted. "You killed her! I knew you would! You planned—" A guard punched her in the stomach. It was enough to shut her up. Harald wouldn’t be kinder to me if I’d get caught in a lie, now. 

"Seven years ago, you got Sif pregnant. Siegmund is your son." I didn’t want to out Sif and Vic as gay, as they were dead. It didn't matter anymore, and it shouldn't matter to anyone else. Ulbrecht noticed I hadn't mentioned a word about it, and kept quiet. Pam groaned from the pain.

"How did you know?" Harald asked me. He shook off Halfdan’s hand.

I sat down and stared at the table. Sif’s body unnerved me. Floki’s stare was too painful. I hadn’t even told him about the bloodlust, yet. I hadn’t taken the time. "He only has his mother's eyes and curls. Aside from those, he's the spitting image of you. I know how desperate a woman can be after she's raped." 

The king sighed and sat back in his seat. "And that was bad enough for her to try and kill you? Was that part of her desperation as well?"

"She didn't want you to find out. The boy hasn't ever touched a sword, Sif and Pam made sure of that. The only reason they came along is that Vic's brother died last winter."

"Shut the fuck up," Pam forced out. "You don't know what we had to do to protect that child!"

“Siegmund isn’t your son!” I slammed my fist into the table. “Now shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you, too.” My eyes bored a hole through her skull. She should’ve known better than to speak up this close to the truth.

Harald grunted. "I'm missing part of the story. Why did you want them here?" 

"You monster!" Pam shouted. "You never loved her! You raping, murderous piece of shit!" Harald put up a hand before the guards could attack her again.

"What do you mean, I didn't love her? You know what I promised to do for her."

"Even if you ruled the world, it wouldn't be enough."

"Pam, shut up," Ulbrecht muttered. 

I kept silent. My right hand was still drenched in blood. The worst of the smell had gone by now, but it hadn’t dried up completely. My dress had smudges of blood, as well. 

"Oh, fuck you, Ulbrecht! You just had to make sure that bitch knew exactly what you wanted her to hear, didn't you? I should've killed you when I had the chance! Just because she was married to Vic doesn't mean you get to have a say in what happens with her son! You should've kept to your poetry, you fucking goat!"

"What?! You whore, how dare you insult me like that! We were all in it together, you manipulative cunt!"

"What the fuck are you talking about!" Harald demanded. His anger rose. This would only get worse.

"They were all gay!" I shouted. Everyone turned to me, now. "They got married because it was a perfect cover story. Vic and Ulbrecht were in love, and Pam and Sif as well. Vic needed an heir, and Sif wanted to know she'd never get raped or hurt by a man again." 

It all made perfect sense to me, but Harald and Halfdan just stared at me. Floki let out a nervous giggle. 

"Why do you think she didn't want to marry you? A dick wouldn't cure her, and a lifetime of rape isn't exactly a great prospect. She rejected everyone who proposed to her, no matter what they promised. The woman was terrified. Sif would never love you, so she sent you on a fool's quest to get rid of you." 

Harald stared at her body. His whole world came crashing down. In his heart, he’d never raped her. He didn’t look like a rapist. They never did. 

"How did you know?" Ulbrecht asked softly.

"The way you spoke of Vic, you clearly loved him. You care for Siegmund as I do about Bjorn's brothers, whom I love as if they were my own. And Sif never would've let Pam be so controlling and manipulative if she wasn't terrified of being alone for the rest of her life."

"Sif loved me, as much as I did her!"

I got up and lowered myself to Pam’s level. "She grew to fear you. The only thing she was afraid of more, was being alone."

"You take that back, you fucking bitch! Demon slut!" 

I rolled my eyes and sighed. I just wanted to hold my own children close. Poor Siegmund had lost so much, and his life would get even harder from here. Would Harald accept the boy as his son? If he didn’t, the boy would become a bastard.

"Never a dull day, Valkyrie," Halfdan said with the barest hint of a smile on his face.


	51. Scorched Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 30-05-815

The sun burned my face. All around me people stood by to watch, giddy with excitement. The bloodlust wouldn't save me, now. Not when I wasn't in danger. I was on my own.

Harald stood by sullenly, the light drained from his eyes. Siegmund tried to clutch onto Ulbrecht, but he moved the grasping fingers to Harald's instead. Halfdan rolled his eyes as he saw, then turned back to me. He nodded with a gravitas I couldn't fully place. Was he worried for me? Or was he glad I had gotten the honor?

The sword in my hands weighed a ton. It wasn't just the physical weight. I'd never bothered to learn how to wield one of these things. The last time I'd held onto one this long was when I'd gotten married to Bjorn. He'd always told me he'd never teach me. He was too afraid I would think I knew how to use one and die trying to defend myself. Ironic, really, that his orders were the ones that forced me into this. 

Pam's lip shook in anger as she tried to kill me with her gaze. I understood why. She'd lost everything because of me. She failed to see how she was responsible for what had gotten her in this mess. The same way I'd been blind to how I'd crafted my own misfortune.

Once more my eyes found the sky. "Freyja," I whispered. Eyes closed, I prayed for a miracle. I didn't want to execute Pam. She was no threat to anyone now that she'd been cast out by Siegmund's people. After Sif's death, Ulbrecht had taken over as regent, despite the mens' lackluster acceptance. Their alternative of having Harald rule over them was even worse. 

Pam had no influence at their court anymore. And yet, Bjorn had ordered her to die. As much as Harald wanted to pretend none of this had happened, it should've been him swinging the sword. But he'd invoked my marriage to Bjorn and my status as Valkyrie to force me into it. Whatever plan this was a part of, I had to pretend he couldn't get to me. 

Hesitation wouldn't make this any easier. "Pam. You conspired to kill king Harald. You conspired to kill me. For those sins you will die."

"At least I'll die free," she spat. "Ragnhild is a fraud! She's no more a Valkyrie than that Ulbrecht likes women!"

A murmur rose up from the crowd. Ulbrecht took it in stride, but he knew his life was over. It had been common knowledge before, but now it was shouted out loud like this, his fate was sealed. He wouldn't survive for long. One wrong look and someone would think he was flirting. 

I leaned over and whispered in her ear. "When you see the gods, tell them I remember Uppsala. I remember my mother." Freyja had given me back Bjorn, despite knowing how it would end. It had been her hands that had blessed me and had marked me as a Valkyrie.

Pam looked confused. She opened her mouth, but before she could utter a word, I shoved the sword through her ribs. I pushed it all the way in, up until the hand guard, then let it rest there. She gasped and choked on her own blood as I walked away.

Her heart beat against the edge of the sword, slowly cutting itself to shreds as it tried to keep on going. Pam would suffer before she died, but she wouldn't make a sound. Her death had to mean something, and this way, no one would dispute who was really in charge in this camp. I could not afford any more distractions. 

Floki fell in after me. When we were past the crowd, he put his hand on my shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong."

"Why are you not crying?"

I turned around. 

Floki searched my face. He cupped it with his hands, stared deep into my eyes. A single finger touched my forehead. His gaze turned even graver. "Something..."

"I know. I feel it too, this time. The gods are with us." I tried to twirl my ring around my finger. Only white skin remained where once I'd worn my ring. Floki walked beside me as we headed for Harald's tent. He wasn't sure if the gods meant well for us, either.

Halfdan followed close behind, taking a seat next to me. He read the mood and kept quiet.

Harald came in after we'd already started on dinner. He merely picked at his food. I didn't feel hungry either, but knew I'd need my strength. We'd return to brave tales of victory and battle tomorrow. 

Halfway through dinner, the entrance opened, and a hooded young man stepped inside. His shoulders hadn't filled out yet, but he wasn't exactly skinny. He threw off his hood.

"Sigurd!" I jumped up and hugged him, as if I hadn't seen him for months. The sight of him warmed my heart after the days I'd had. "What are you doing here? Come, join us. Grab him a plate!" 

He sat down on a chair and pulled my plate towards him, wolfing down whatever food he could shove down his throat. My smile fell away. 

Harald stared at the boy intently. "What are you doing here? Why did Bjorn send you over, and not a messenger? He seemed loath to tear his brotherhood apart last we spoke." 

It was a good point, but it could wait until Sigurd was done inhaling his food. I put my hand on his arm. Floki's calm demeanor told me he'd expected to see the boy so soon. Bjorn wanted a pair of eyes on me, so Floki could keep watching Harald and Halfdan. We still had to find out what their plans were now, and Sif dying had complicated things immensely. 

Sigurd belched. "Bjorn didn't trust anyone else with this information, it had to be one of us. We came across some disturbing stuff regarding Ecbert's army." His eyes flitted over the table. He didn't trust the brothers, nor Siegmund.

"What's so important, then?" Harald asked. 

I put my hand on Sigurd's back. "At least an indication?"

"They're burning everything in their wake as they retreat." 

The blood ran away from my face. There was only one good reason to burn down your own lands. How did they even know about it? "Bjarne. He knew." 

Sigurd nodded. He dug into the fresh plate set before him.

An anger I'd never felt before took over. Not even Bjorn had driven me that far. "That fucker!" I got up and flung my mug off the table. The water almost splashed Halfdan. How did Ecbert have knowledge of such a terrifying method of warfare? It couldn't be.

"Ragnhild?" Floki asked.

I seethed with rage but forced it down. Hands leaning on the table, I kept my eyes closed. "Siegmund, I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave. I'm sure Ulbrecht will take care of you for now. Harald, would you please tell your people to leave and not let anyone near the tent in earshot? Only us can hear this." 

The king reluctantly complied. He still didn't know how to act around his son. As everyone left, I feared what was to come. This was already a huge revelation, and it would only get worse. Sigurd's appetite made me queasy. 

He swallowed the rest of his food down with a gulp of ale. "Ecbert is burning everything in sight. We're already low on rations."

I sat down, pulling my fingers through my hair and gripping my scalp. "Scorched earth. Ecbert means to kill his land before he'll let us have any of it. We won't find any food or water that's not poisoned or burned." It had been the strategy Bjarne had been interested in most. For his summons I'd sent him bits of charcoal. I leaned back in my seat and covered my mouth with a hand. This couldn't be real. We only wanted him, not the rest of Wessex. Could we still retreat? Ragnar wasn't worth such a foe.

"Bjorn didn't want to cause a panic," Sigurd said. 

No wonder he hadn't trusted anyone else to deliver the message.

"And rightfully so. This is not something we want to be widely known." I hesitated. It sounded intense. We didn't even know if we were hit, yet. My eyes travelled across theirs. They had to realize what was at stake. "This is no longer a revenge campaign, but a fight to survive." The table didn't know how to react. Neither did I. It was too early. They didn't do this kind of thing in the middle ages. How had Ecbert even come up with it?

"There's more," Sigurd said as he grabbed my hand. "Bjorn wanted me to tell you something. I'm not at all sure what it means, but he said you'd understand." I raised an eyebrow. "He wanted me to tell you, we're not in Kansas anymore." 

Ice slid through my veins. Bjorn knew how much of a wreck I was, and now he asked me this. He had to be damn fucking sure to be asking me. The veins in my body constricted my lungs and heart. 

Sigurd looked up at me as if he waited for me to sprout wings. "He told me I'd probably have to tell you three times." 

Bjorn was clueless. He had no idea what to do. He knew he was outmatched. No one could help him-save for me. 

A shiver tore through my body. I forced my breath to calm down. "You won't have to. I just... Need to process this." I hadn't heard those words in a very long time. The last time had been when he'd trusted me. 

"I'm not to leave your side until we meet up again, just so you know." 

Someone to keep an eye out for me. Smart move. Ubbe would be too compliant to deal with me when I had to do what I did, and Hvitserk would only worry over what would be happening to me. And Ivar... was Ivar. Bjorn had picked Sigurd carefully. He had not made this decision lightly. Keeping the armies separate meant we'd have a bigger chance of at least one of us surviving. 

I stood up straight. "You'll sleep in my tent. Where I go, you go." Sigurd would figure out I was pregnant. That didn't matter anymore. If I didn't do what Bjorn asked of me, there was a real chance we'd all die.

I'd need to be alone with Sigurd. Who knew how many details he could fill in for me. I needed to know more, so I could come up with a plan.

"Wait a second," Floki said. "I heard those words before."

"I'd like to know what's going on as well," Halfdan said. He called for a refill; his skin weirdly pale. Was he worried?

I sat down and stared at my hands. Sigurd clutched my fingers so hard they turned white as the skin on my ring finger. "They're part of a story I told him, about a girl finding herself in a strange land. He spoke them once before. Floki was there, too." I looked up at him. "We were surrounded by those Frankish warships that had been blown off-course." 

Floki's eyes went wide. "No. You can't mean..." His mouth opened wide. Bjorn expected me to pull a miracle out of my ass. 

"It seems I'm now in charge. Bjorn has given me full command."

"What?" Harald and Halfdan said at the same time. 

"But he'd never..."

I focused on my breathing. The surprise of it had kept me from realizing I'd need to convince Harald and Halfdan of this, too.

"It's true," Floki said. His eyes bored into mine before he faced the brothers. He'd noticed. "The last time I heard of this Kansas we were all sure we'd die, and Ragnhild managed to get us all out unharmed. If Bjorn said those words… This... This is bad." He glared at the exit. He wanted to protect Helga.

"A few years ago we wanted to know if Rollo was open to conversation, but before we even made it past the borders of Francia we ran across Frankish warships. They wanted to attack us out on open sea. We had just the one ship, as we didn't want to attract any unwanted attention. We even sailed under an unknown flag, we looked like a bunch of settlers looking for better lands to farm."

Harald narrowed his eyes. "That offer Rollo made, about anyone being welcome there."

I nodded. "All but forgotten, but it provided us with a plausible cover. Bjorn meant to comfort me when he said those words. But I refused to die at sea. Freydis was only two years old, back then. The boys depended on me." I turned to Sigurd, who smiled faintly. Had both me and Bjorn died, and Floki as well... "I asked him to trust me, and he gave me his complete faith."

We'd sworn a vow to never speak of it again. I would not break their faith in me. The gods, Bjorn, even Floki. He already leered at me for telling them this much. I'd told everyone to throw their pagan symbols into the sea if they wanted to live, as payment to Thor to keep us all safe from harm, and it was a good thing they did.

I'd done the one thing they would never expect a heathen to do. The Franks heard me pray to God, and as I'd hoped, they didn't dare attack us. One of their passengers had been an English monk. I told him I had gathered the savages to guide them towards the flock of Christ, to save their mortal soul. We meant no harm, didn't have any weapons or pagan symbols with us. Two of their warriors boarded the boat and checked out the story. 

The monk told the others to leave us be, and then even offered to accompany us down the coast to Rollo's castle. Of course, I graciously accepted and even boarded their boat to talk to the monk about what we'd plan to do once we had joined our Christened Viking leader in Normandy. For two whole days we'd kept up the charade.

"I never spun such gold from shit, nor will I ever again."

"You never hide a story from us," Sigurd said a bit grumpy.

"No one on that boat will ever speak the truth. We... Weren't afraid of dying. We were afraid of what would happen to Kattegat had we not made it back." Aslaug in charge as sole queen, and her attention so focused on Ivar, Freydis still so young…

Harald scoffed. "Bjorn put you in charge because you managed to save his ass one time out at sea?" 

"He put me in charge because he can't see a way out, other than fight and die. Depending on how bad it already is, I'm not sure there will even be a fight."

"It's only three days to the villa," Halfdan countered. 

"And that will mean three days of unease, traps, and infighting. That's just what we'll do to ourselves. They are counting on us to act like the savages they make us out to be. We have no guarantee that they'll stop scorching once we reach the villa, or that they have enough resources for us to get back to unspoiled lands again. Right now, we have to assume everything we don't have in the camp is poisoned or sabotaged."

Harald got up. "We have to warn the others, then. We can't have half the camp dying on us."

"We have to let them die." 

I couldn't believe I'd spoken the words. Neither could the rest of the table. Even Harald looked surprised.

"I need to think. We can't let anyone find out. Bjorn knows that too, why else would he send over Sigurd by himself? We need an ironclad plan, and we are going to have to make some tough choices. We can't let this advantage go to waste. We have to sacrifice the few to save the many." The words tasted like death and decay as I spoke them. Anyone could die from this. It was a cruel lottery of fate, where the gods decided who would win and lose. 

Halfdan's face no longer looked worried. He could handle death and the face of impossible odds. "Will we see some more of your demons?" I nodded gravely. "From what I saw so far, that Ecbert won't know what hit him." His confident smile worried me even more. 

I wasn't up to the task of beating a foe like him. The words Freydis had spoken to me came flooding back. I would fight both my past and my future. No one would win. So at least Ecbert would lose, too. Or we'd end in a stalemate, both-both losing what we loved.

My fingers gripped at Sigurd. No. I'd keep the boys safe. At least Sigurd would survive, he'd be with me through all of this.

Ragnar had tried to warn me. Had he foreseen that Ecbert would burn his own lands? Then why not tell Ivar when he'd found out? It had to do with me being from the future, there was no other way. 

"I wouldn't be too sure, Halfdan. There's a reason you've never faced such a thing before." I didn't want to admit it to myself, but they had to know what we'd be facing. It would make them more likely to go along with what had to be done. "Whoever put this in motion... I think they might be from my home country." If my twin brother had made it back as well... Who knew who else might have come here. My mind refused to believe it could be true. I only knew of the scorched earth being used by the Russians against Napoleon, no other legends or tales I'd heard here ever made mention of it. 

"Why would that matter?" Halfdan asked. 

"Because that person might be even more well versed in the art of war than me. As far as I'm concerned, I'm an amateur. I have no true knowledge, as a battle master would have. I don't know what to expect. I don't know who we're fighting." 

"We've fought Ecbert before," Harald said. "He's got plenty of horsemen, a fair number of foot soldiers and archers worth shit. That's who we're up against."

I hated his condescending tone. It reminded me of my past. My demons overtook. Mistrust, anger, logic, every old instinct I had developed once to survive. My shoulder pulled up. All of who I was balled up in my chest. My body didn't feel mine anymore. A constant fear cut into my heart with every breath I took. It was so easy to fall back to who I'd once been, before I'd gotten to know Bjorn. But something felt different, this time. This time, the bloodlust guided the demons.

"And how will you fight those forces when we lose most our men on the way there? If you think this will be the same as before, you're just showing us what a stupid fucking cunt you really are." 

Harald wanted to get up in protest, but Halfdan put a hand on his arm. 

"I think we should listen to her, brother. Look at her eyes. That's not the Ragnhild we've come to know. That's not a mother, or a wife. That's a Valkyrie." His words meant nothing to me.

My voice came out flat. "From here on out we'll assume the worst at every turn. We can't risk communication with the other camp until we're certain their scouts know we are here. If a message gets intercepted, they can trace us back or find out what we're up to. Joining up only makes us a bigger target, and for now we'll have to assume they'll burn our boats before long. We'll have to pull back into Northumbria or even Mercia to survive the winter if that happens, unless we're lucky and it ends beyond the villa." I got up and sneaked a look outside to see if the guards were still at a fair distance. 

They were. "We'll start foraging beyond the river tomorrow, and double the guards at the camp, and triple near the boats as soon as possible. The men will have to make sure a Saxon eats the food and drinks the water, for every source, sack or pot they find. Wait a while to see if they die, then consider it safe. No one is to bathe in the river as soon as dead fish start to float by, and drinking the water is too great of a risk as of right now. Let me know when a horse dies from eating the grass."

"Sigurd, make sure to stay hidden for as long as possible. Make sure I get at least three hours of sleep every night, and that I eat enough to keep going." He seemed to grasp the severity of the situation.

Harald looked less certain. "Harald, the other earls will join us for breakfast tomorrow. You will be the face of this operation; I can't have people expecting me to care about them. Floki. Take care of the logistics of how we can travel without foraging and extra fortification each day. Make some estimates as to what we'll need to get to the villa, fight, come back here and get us to untainted land. 

"Halfdan, send scouts out as soon as possible. Have them pay special attention to how the trees and grass look, as well as any dead or lack of animals they find. Let them travel in pairs. You'll make sure they can pass through the gates, and no one else is to bring anything inside that wasn't in the camp before, under any circumstance. If something gets through, kill the offender and the guard who allowed it. See to it personally, and make sure no one finds out unless they have to. We're under martial law as soon as we leave this tent."

"Why don't we just leave and head back?" Sigurd asked. His voice was softer than before. 

Did I scare him? I'd catch more flies with honey than vinegar. "They have burned their own lands, do you think they won't have other traps for us in place? They must have known we'd travel up to Repton, as we landed here once before. They've become desperate and want to cause as much death and destruction as possible. That is why we have to work together."

Harald knew better than to sigh or roll his eyes at me. "You have to admit, it all sounds a bit extreme..." 

My head tilted to the left. "That's why I want the environment scouted tonight, as far as is feasible. We need to know if it's as bad as it can get, or if there's still some leeway. I'll ease down when I have proof it won't kill us. This a battle of the mind. And I need to know how far the other one is willing to go before I make a move."

I leaned on the table and closed my eyes. Why was it this easy to talk about sacrificing people? Was this part of the bloodlust? Or just old defensive mechanisms? "The people who may die tonight will serve as a warning for the others. We can't say anything until we know how bad it is. We can't afford panic or being careless. You all must remain silent until tomorrow."

They looked graver than death, all but one. The fidgeting of his fingers was one I knew all too well. "Floki. Helga can't know. No matter how badly she wants to be there for you. You all need to understand, there's a bigger picture here. If this entire army were to die, imagine how it would affect all of our homes." All the borders as we knew them would be redrawn. Scandinavia would take decades to recover all the lost men. "If we fall apart, we all die. If you have questions, I will answer them, but I need to know you'll support me through this. I'm trusting you with the lives of everyone in this camp, and many back home." 

Floki was the first to speak. "After all we've been through, how can I not trust you with our lives? You hold the fate of the Viking in your hands." 

Right. It hardly seemed something to celebrate. I could've waited for this ten years more. No wonder the gods were moving. They would help us through this. They wouldn't bring me here to have me fail.

"Never a dull day, Ragnhild. I'm with you." Halfdan tried to smile when he said it, but I knew his own demons began to stir. He'd take as many Saxons with him as he could. To him, death was already certain. He didn't have children to live for.

I turned to Harald. If he refused, as far as I was concerned, we were all dead. 

"By the gods I hope you're wrong... But if my brother trusts you with his life, so will I." 

It was more reluctant that I'd hoped, but it would have to suffice for now. I nodded and knitted my eyebrows together. "Alright, time to move. Sigurd, stay with me for a bit." Floki, Halfdan and Harald got up and left.

Sigurd's face turned familiar again. "That was brutal, auntie. I've never seen Harald act that meek."

"These next few days will be very trying, for all of us." 

Sigurd's face fell into a similar frown as mine. "Bjorn invited Bjarne to come up with a plan, but they were a lot less careful than you were. We'd already seen entire farms put to the torch, but we didn't think that they would poison the water or the food we'd find."

Fools, the lot of them. They'd all perish. I forced my emotions down. I couldn't mourn any of them until we were safe. "Bjorn will be suspicious enough of anything they leave behind. We can't risk sending a message until we know what we're up against. We have to make use of our advantages as long as we have them."

"I'd ask you how you would know all this, but..."

I'd never tell him I was from the future. "Did Bjorn tell you why he sent you?"

"Ivar and I have been fighting again. When he heard about Ulbrecht he taunted me as usual." Those two fighting could only serve to break this whole thing apart. Had Ivar been here, I wouldn't have hesitated to put him in chains to keep him out of my way.

Poor boy. "There's a good chance we might never see them alive again, and at least one of the sons of Ragnar must survive." Bjorn would know better than to try and lead Ecbert's forces to our camp. Us beating Ecbert was the best chance they had to survive.

His eyes went big at that. "Why? But..." He fidgeted with his arm ring.

"Bjorn is desperate. He thinks I have a better chance of making it through. If push comes to shove, the two of us might have to make a run for it and try and blend in as commoners until we can make our way out of here. For the time being, consider yourself his heir." He needed time to process this news, and I gave him a minute. It would not do if he'd start to panic.

He fell down in his seat, his eyes unfocused. "You're most likely to survive in a country like this." 

If only that were all there was to it. "Bjorn had to get you away from Ivar. Besides, you were most reluctant to move against Lagertha. He can be as cold and calculating as I am now. You were the obvious choice. If you had refused it would've been Hvitserk, but he'd be of less use to me."

Sigurd took a second to recover, then looked me straight in the eye. "What do you need me to do?"

I'd have to treat him like an adult, now. My baby boy, I could still remember how he'd loved to play at being a wolf when he was younger. His bravery cracked my hard shell. 

"Make sure I don't collapse half-way through this. I also need you to stay up to date with all my plans should I need you to deliver a message to one of the other three, and I'll bounce ideas off you. If you think I'm getting too cold and distant, remind me of Freydis. You have to make sure I will still be able to suppress my demons after we make it through."

"That almost sounds hopeful."

"I made her a promise. Before we left, she told me she hoped I'd still be her mother when I came back. She also told me I'd be careless." 

Sigurd nodded. "It'll be tough, for sure."

"You have no idea. I need to tell you more than a few secrets that I thought to keep to myself until this whole raid was over." I brushed my fingers over his cheek. I'd break his heart. "Do you remember what Aelle told me?"

"Auntie Ragnhild must stay home."

"Those were Ragnar's words, and he spoke them out of fear." There was no time to sugar-coat any of this. "He meant to die here, to force us all to come here. He also knew I would come here, even before he left. I'm carrying Bjorn's child." 

Sigurd's eyes went wide with shock. How much more could I lay on him before he'd want me to stop? How strong had I raised him to be? "Con... Congratulations?"

I still wasn't sure if I was happy to have this child. I hadn't had time to be happy, or sad, or feel anything about it yet. Not since I'd decided this child would grow up with my name, not Bjorn's. "Floki and Helga know, but I have to ask you to not speak of it. My reign is tentative enough with Harald sulking over Sif's death, and him knowing I'm with child will only serve to divide us further." 

Sigurd shook his head and sighed. "Anything else?"

"I'm glad to have you with me." 

We smiled at each other for a moment, my mind drifting off to my children at home. At least they'd be safe. The hardness fell away from me now I had gotten him up to speed. 

Sigurd brushed his fingers through my hair. "This will be hard on you, won't it? I can already see it." His eyes lingered on the lines around my eyes. 

"I think Floki was right. This is the reason I was brought here by the gods. I could lose it all." I almost choked up.

He held me tight. "Or you could gain so much more. Another child, Bjorn..."

I let out a deep sigh. "We need to start preparations for the meeting tomorrow, and you need to tell me about the road you took to get here. We need to draw a map of the surroundings, all the way to Ecbert's villa. We need more information."

"I'm not sure how useful it'll be. We've both never been there."

"We'll start with what we know and go from there." 

We set to work and used charcoal to draw a crude map on the side of Harald's tent. We had come further than we'd thought before he made it back. 

"That Sigfrid is a nightmare," he muttered. "How did he ever manage to stay earl for that long?"

I ignored his sarcasm. He couldn't see that Sigurd had helped me lighten up. " Anyone give you trouble?"

"Hjalmar and Ingolf turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Waldemar seemed hesitant, but the other two persuaded him. Ulbrecht was happy to be included, with you watching his back. The others just shrugged and agreed. As for the kid, err…" No surprises there, most earls that had come with knew Harald from the raid south. 

"Help us with this map. We need to know where the villa is, and what to expect on the way there." 

Harald took in a deep breath, slowly letting go of it. "What do you want me to tell them tomorrow? Why are we even having that breakfast meeting?" 

"It depends on what the scouts find out. I want to be there when they return."

"That could be until sunrise, auntie. You should get some sleep before that. It's already late." Sigurd took his task seriously. Harald would soon lose his penchant for jokes and comments. 

"If there's any sign of us being detected, I want to be woken up. We live and die by what will happen tomorrow." Harald took in a deep breath. "Of course, I hope it won't come to that. If it looks like the enemy is just being thorough to hinder Bjorn's camp, we'll forage far enough to help supply them when we meet up. We'll need to maximize our use of that advantage, though I'm not sure if that means we should stay here another day or head out and gain as much ground as possible."

"That also depends on the scouts," Harald said. "You were right to send out so many. If what you fear is true..." He finally started to grasp our odds. About time. He was getting slow.

"Then may the gods keep us. We'll need all the help we can get."


	52. The Map

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31-05-815

I slept fitfully, and short. Sigurd woke me up before the sun rose, and thankfully before the morning sickness kicked in. We made our way to Harald's tent, where the first scouts were already reporting to Halfdan what they had found. 

"Took her long enough," Halfdan muttered. A look told him not to test me. "Ragnhild intends to draw a map of the surroundings here. Would you mind telling her what you came across before you get a good rest?" 

I was all smiles and pleasantries as the scouts helped me fill in more of the blanks, and it was all fake. 

"Is this why we had to mind the environment the way we did?" The scout wasn’t pleased. 

"Among others. I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle."

"Well, we did come across a load of dead fish in the bend of this creek. It was about here," the scout said as he pointed at a point between our camp and Bjorn's. The water had been poisoned, this foe was going all out. 

"Oh, really? I hope you didn't try and eat any." If he had, his symptoms would provide us with valuable clues as to what poison was used.

The scout was not up for chit-chat. "Nothing weird beyond that."

"We saw some fires, but they seemed to be just on the other side," his partner told me. "And some further up ahead, a bit more to the side. Too many waterways to make out if it was on our side or not."

"Did you come across many creeks?"

"Spent most of the night wet and soggy." Flowing water was good. Any poison would flush out soon. They wouldn't be able to keep the river poisoned for long.

As the scouts came in and reported, the map filled out more and more. By the time the torches could be put out it almost seemed usable. Sigurd took care of the last five pairs, after showing a marked skill in asking the right questions. Pretending he could learn from all of this was probably for the best. It meant he believed that we could survive, and I sorely lacked that optimism. 

"Only two left," Halfdan sighed. "I spent all night at that bloody gate. Do you need me to stay here?"

I kept my eyes on the map. "Where did you send them?" Halfdan sat next to me and pointed at a place that had been fairly filled out. 

"Lots of farms there, thought it'd be wise to send some extra. I hope you can see something in this, because to me it's just a bunch of scribbles."

"The circles are places they found dead fish, the rectangles are farms, and the crosses are places that burned down. Those squiggles there indicate forests." 

Halfdan just shook his head. "Well, I'm off to bed. See you in a lot of hours."

"We'll wake you if we need you." 

Halfdan groaned and left the tent. 

Sigurd waved off his pair of scouts and joined me at the table. "What's the plan now? It’s all contained until that stretch of water." He pointed at the river that divided the camps.

"I'm worried about those burned farms on our side. It would make sense for them to make it seem like there's nothing to gain on this side, but I feel like I'm missing something." It just didn’t add up. Why attack Bjorn’s camp, but not mine? Had that been a calculated decision?

"We've got evidence of fire and poison. Is there something else they could use?" Biological warfare, nuclear weapons. Who knew what lunatic had come up with. What if he'd come from a time past even mine?

"Disease, maybe. Blankets that carry a plague. But those usually are part of a trade."

Sigurd paled. "Is that even possible?"

"Why do you think we always burn them after one comes? It's not just for show. But no, it must be something else. Poison can be either liquid or powder..." Or airborne. No, not until the first world war. "Either way it flushes out, it gets too thin way too soon. But if you don't know that, you'd not want to try the water again. Ecbert knows what he's doing." 

I got up and looked at the map from another angle, trying to figure out a pattern. "Say you had a massive army like ours heading towards Kattegat by land. How would you defend yourself, if you had plenty of time to defend yourself? What would you build to deter the enemy?"

"Walls, mostly. I'd spend more time training extra warriors than anything else."

Ecbert's forces would be better trained than usual. Maybe all of them would be armed, this time. "Archers, swords..."

"Spears and shields. Extra defense, extra range." 

I nodded. It made sense for a Viking to say that. "That's focusing on Kattegat. And if you wanted to make a pre-emptive strike? Harass the enemy?"

"Why would I do that? We could hold them off."

"Even if it were five thousand men? How would you slow their advance?"

Sigurd sat down and glowered at the map. The vibe he gave off reminded me of Ragnar. Nowhere in his mind was this a game, not anymore. "Ditches. Block narrow passages to slow their advance."

"Using the environment against them. Good. But why not send out small raiding parties to disrupt supply lines, or burn their food supplies?"

"It's no use. We always keep them well defended." 

I sighed; this wasn't getting me the answer I was looking for. 

"I'd make damn well sure no second attack from the water was coming, though." 

My shoulders fell. I looked up at the tent that covered the sky. "Say, in the time since Ragnar died, up until now, and with a warning such as Aelle's untimely demise..." 

Sigurd cursed. Ecbert already knew we were here. He just wanted us to make the first move, lulling us in a false sense of security. Had the scouts gone much further, they would’ve no doubt seen the giant loop that Ecbert was burning around us. With our camp this close to the river, we had nowhere else to go.

"How long until breakfast?" I dreaded his answer. It would let the demons back in, where over the night I’d gotten by on me being Auntie.

"An hour or two, I'd say."

"Go get Harald and Floki. We need to think of a new plan." 

Sigurd left in a hurry, while I sat down and allowed myself a moment to accept the fact it would be a long time before I'd see some rest again. Then I pushed away the feelings of fear and insecurity that surfaced, and the craving for a cup of coffee. 

I turned around and looked at the map up close. If those scouts turned out to be dead, it would confirm the horrible feeling in my gut. Could my opponent really be so cunning as to leave our camp a strip of viable land to put us at ease? If so, we'd be in for a world of pain. We'd have to ration our food and water. We'd have to be on the move fast. We'd have to go in for the kill without Bjorn's part of the army. This would become a blitzkrieg. 

"Ragnhild," Floki said out of breath. He pulled on the collar of his shirt, which he wore inside-out. "How bad is it?"

"Let's wait for Harald first. Some water?" He nodded, and I poured him a cup. I needed to stay hydrated myself, as well. Harald came in right after, his hair in disarray. I’d never seen it not taken care of. Finehair, indeed.

"We're fucked." I walked over to the map and explained what the scouts had found, and told them where the missing scouts had been sent to. "The enemy left us just enough room to breathe, to have us think we haven't been detected, only to lure us in a trap. Worst case, we’d have tried to merge back with Bjorn and they’d have sprung the trap shut. In the best case, we will still starve, just slower than the other camp."

"What now?" Harald asked. 

He finally understood how a man like Bjorn could hand over command. It wasn’t just his pride at stake, here. Pushing on against such odds without a plan meant he endangered the whole of Scandinavia. Would Ragnar have stepped down? 

"We count ourselves lucky. There aren't any signal fires like there used to be. Chances are that they needed the materials to get the fires going. That means they are either rushed or overconfident. As for our plan, we'll make the first, second, and third move all at once. It's the only way to take out Ecbert and get back here in time to get out with at least some hope of making it back to Norway. His forces are still scattered trying to burn everything to a crisp, we have to make use of that."

"Blitskjieg," Floki said. I nodded. He remembered me telling about it once.

"Blitzkrieg. Rushing in half blind, and hoping most of us make it out. We take what's been given to us, while we are on the move. We march through the night and the next day, then go in with all we have." 

Harald sat back. "The other camp?" He knew better than to give me a hopeful look. With that gone, he’d only have to get rid of me to establish his dominance and rule most of Scandinavia, all in one fell swoop. If, he made it out himself.

"We’ll get word to them. They can find a location that can support us for when we get back."

"The others will want to run."

"We will need every single one to go with us. If they threaten to leave, we'll take their food and water for our own. They'll have no choice but to join us. We die and live together." There was no other way. If he had the foresight and support to scorch the earth, he'd have a massive army assembled at his villa, as well. At least… If they wren’t scorching everything around them as we spoke. It was the assumption on which the whole plan balanced.

"Thousands will die," Harald said with a sad expression. 

"Some will survive. There is one bit of good news. The enemy has poisoned the creeks, but there's too much water around to stay poisoned for long. In a day or so the water shouldn't be a problem anymore. We're on flood plains, all the way to Ecbert's villa. The water streams from here to there, so if the other camp makes sure the river stays safe we have a better chance of survival."

"This kind of warfare... It's not natural. Who would go that far?" Harald was out of his league, stuck in the time of shield walls and open fields. 

"Someone desperate to stay alive, and just as mistrusting as I used to be. Someone in power, relentless and fearsome."

"Thank the gods you came with us," Floki said. "I do not intend to die on this piece of shit island."

"Neither do I," I said. "Come on, let's figure out how to bring this to the rest." We sat down and decided on what we would and wouldn't say, and how to make sure everyone would stay on board. Harald seemed unhappy to have to be the one to tell everyone, though. I didn't want to have to jump in, but perhaps I'd better dress for the occasion, nonetheless. Defying a king happened, especially when he was outnumbered. But a Valkyrie... Who dared defy the gods?


	53. The Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31-05-815

As ever, Helga didn't ask questions. Worry written all over her face, it did nothing to affect her precision with the kohl. 

"Stay in the camp," I told her. "You'll hear from Floki when that meeting's done, I promise."

"Just tell me how bad it is," she pleaded. I hesitated, letting a few fleeting feelings drift up. No, I had to stay strong. I couldn't tell anyone, breaking my own rules would be foolish. 

"I can't, I'm sorry. I want to, but I can't." 

Helga sighed, not liking it any better than I did. "Keep him safe."

"I'll do my best. You know that." She put down the brush and nodded. I was ready to face the crowd. 

I wanted to tell her everything would be fine, but I couldn't find the courage to lie. Instead, I closed my eyes and gave the feelings a good last shove, feeling my face grow neutral and passive. 

"Good luck," Helga whispered as I left her tent. 

People outside stared at me, wondering why I had donned my battle outfit. In a way I was on my way to fight. No doubt this would alert the camp something was about to happen. It wouldn't be long before they found out, anyway.

The short distance to Harald's tent was enough to ready myself. Most earls had already arrived and looked up as they saw me enter. Except for Ingolf, all seemed curious. Ingolf just gave me a curt nod. Sigfrid was amongst those late, no doubt hoping to make a big entrance. Two others were still absent. I moved to sit beside Harald. There were still four seats open, I noticed. Harald wanted his brother beside him. Most likely that was for the best. 

Per my instructions, the map I'd drawn was covered for now. Harald sighed in relief as Halfdan walked in, smirking a bit as he saw me all dressed up. He was obviously tired, having barely slept, but seemed to be fine for now. The two stragglers came in together, quickly taking their seat. 

"Sigfrid will be here in about ten minutes," I whispered to Harald. "If we start now, we can put him in his place before he even sits down." Harald nodded, then signalled the guards to shut the entrance. 

He put on a radiant smile and stood up. "Welcome, earls. I'm so happy you could join us today. We have some important news to share with you, that really can't wait. Please, enjoy the food." A few servants brought plates in, then left. 

"Why's Sigurd here?" Hjalmar asked. 

"All in good time. He is the reason I asked you to come here, that I can tell you." I ate some bread, hoping it would keep the nausea at bay for a bit longer. Harald seemed to have the same idea, unsure of how to start off. He was about to become the most hated man in this camp. Halfdan noticed and cleared his throat. 

"I sent out scouts last night, and they returned with disturbing news. We've put together a plan, and I hope you'll at least have the decency to shut the fuck up while we lay it out. Ask questions later." He at least tried to start off nice enough. 

Sigurd had the same thought, sharing a look with me. 

"Ecbert burnt all the farms, most of the forests and poisoned all the water near Ironside's camp. Sigurd came to warn us. The scouts informed us we have a bit of leniency, but as soon as we move inland we'll face the same problems. It's a trap to make us think we're safe. Ecbert put up traps along the river too, so we can't just back away without suffering heavy casualties. We found out a few hours ago." He took in a deep breath, taking in the mood. 

There was a lot of confusion and worried looks, and the passive face of Ingolf. 

"What do you mean, I'm not allowed to enter!" Sigfrid's voice rang through the tent from outside. "King Harald personally invited me! You know, the one you take orders from?!" The table groaned at the tantrum Sigfrid threw. A brief respite of their woes. It'd give them time to let their emotions settle before they responded.

"Let the man in," Harald shouted. The entrance opened, and Sigfrid stepped in, very satisfied with himself. "If I tell you what time you need to be here, you better listen. You missed half already."

"I had some urgent matters to—" 

"Sit down and shut up," Ingolf said. Sigfrid pouted, but listened. "Bjorn's fucked, we're fucked less. Harald's got a plan." He turned back to Harald. 

He nodded in Ingolf's direction, then continued. "Ecbert is waiting for us to make the first move, and we'll make it. The plan is to march and forage as much as we can, and leave tomorrow. We'll keep going until the day after, well until noon. We'll ration food and water, and send word to Bjorn's camp to come over to our site and keep open a supply line for water at the least. As soon as we reach Ecbert's villa we'll take him by surprise and can find out if he's done the same further south and take our sweet time replenishing there, or head back and move into Northumbria for supplies." 

Short, sweet, to the point. I expected little defiance. 

"You can't be serious," Sigfrid said. "Do you mean to go in like a headless chicken? Let me tell you—"

"No," I said curtly. "We're telling you."

"I will not be spoken to in that tone, Ragnhild! I'll take my chances heading back on my own."

Harald scoffed. "We'll have no choice but to kill you, then take your food and water for our own." This caused quite the murmur. Harald had to put it to rest, quick. 

I nudged him with an elbow, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"Shut the fuck up! All eyes were on him again. "You all promised to avenge Ragnar, and by the gods, we will. We might have never faced this before, but we will overcome this."

"And who decided on this plan?" The name of the earl that spoke up had slipped me for a second. 

"The same people who have lead you into battle before, and have brought you here," Harald answered.

"Ragnhild was the one who brought me here," Waldemar said. "What does she have to say about this?"

"I support Harald," I said. "Any other questions?"

"You can't be serious," Sigfrid started again. "I have brought the most men with me. I should have a say in what goes on around here!" He was more trouble than I had expected. 

"We are serious," Harald spoke. "Any others?" Good call, answering his question and moving on. He was finding his groove. 

"How?" Ingolf asked. His lips covered most of his teeth as he spoke, as ever. 

"Ragnhild oversees the rations, as she has no men of her own to favor. Floki handles the logistics, Halfdan will oversee the foraging, as much as that's possible." Ingolf frowned. That was a bad sign.

"You have to admit, this is most unusual," Carsten said with a thick, deep voice. "I'm not sure my men will like it one bit."

"The rations are only for food and water," I clarified. "Decide for yourself if you want to keep any horses, alcohol, or other stuff. I advise to travel light, as it will be gruelling enough. Bjorn's camp can take care of most of our stuff when they get here." 

"What about the spoils? Will we have to share with Bjorn's camp?" Carsten wanted to know if he could offer his men something in return for everything it would cost him. Avarice was easy to deal with, as I had recently become very, very rich. 

"I will share the wealth I have gained recently to compensate for lost expenses. We will share what we find with Bjorn's camp. If they survive." He couldn't use rioting earls any more than we could.

"So it's true you robbed a tax transport," Carsten said with a creepy smile. 

"As Bjorn put it, it was enough to finance half of this campaign." Some eyes glazed over from having to imagine how such a treasure would look like. Others stared at me as if I'd start handing them bribes after breakfast. 

"The boats?" Ingolf looked a lot more pleased.

I nodded at Harald. 

"Under guard of Bjorn as well. We'll send a messenger as soon as you're all on board," Harald said. Most earls seemed to at least contemplate the plan. 

"I will follow you, Harald," Ulbrecht spoke up. "Earl Siegmund will be proud to follow his father into battle." 

I could have kissed the man. With him joining, the others would feel doubly embarrassed to stay behind or try to leave. I could just hear the other earls thinking; they would not be less brave than a fag. No one dared say it, but I saw their faces. More importantly, Ulbrecht acknowledged Harald as the leader. 

"And the rest of you?" Harald asked, looking everyone in the eye briefly. One by one, the voices rose. Aye, aye, yes, aye. 

"I will join, but I want my protest to be noted!" Sigfrid whined. The rest all agreed without much trouble. During the rest of breakfast, the earls discussed how best to bring the news to their men. 

"Ragnar would be proud," Floki said, giggling a bit as he leaned in closer. 

I scoffed. "With our odds, he'd be scared shitless," I said under my breath. Only Sigurd next to me seemed to have heard. A wave of nausea hit; I nudged Sigurd. 

I stood up and raised my voice. "I'll start preparations on the rationing. Please bring your supplies here, and we'll take care of the transport and distribution. Don't try to hold anything back. I'll know when you do." I left the earls to their thoughts and chatter. Holding my head up high, I made it back to my tent to find that comforting cooking pot.


	54. Rationale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 31-05-815

The camp was enraged at having to hand off their rations. After two hours, not one earl had successfully handed off their food and water, and I was glad I'd dressed up this morning. The disgruntled looks walking past soon disappeared as their owners saw me looking at them intently. It grew boring after a while, though, and I turned back to the map. We couldn't wait to hear back from more scouts, and the two Halfdan hadn't waited up for still weren't back. 

Sigurd twiddled his thumbs. "It would be real fast," he promised. 

"No. You stay by my side." I didn't even want him to take a shit without me by his side, but that would take things way too far. Sigurd had to believe he was the one guarding me. 

Sigurd sighed, exasperated. He should be glad to have a few hours of quiet before the storm. This could well be the last private moment we'd ever have.

I couldn't force this to be a nice moment. It wasn't like having tea before, back home. Not just the cookies were missing. "You can check those messages. I smudged one of them."

I looked up at the billowing entrance skins. Sigurd jumped up to get started on the messages. He didn't do well with idle hands. He should've brought his oud. Then again, I needed to remain focused. It took too much energy to let the demons back in and shove them off. It made me think and hesitate about all of my decisions. 

"Ragnhild, here's our share." Ulbrecht came in, followed by men carrying crates and chests. With a smile I got up and directed the men where to put it. Me and Sigurd would sort it out later. 

"I'm not surprised to see you here first, Ulbrecht." 

He beamed at that. "After what you've done for us... I must admit I'm still sceptical of Harald, but if he listens to you... I know who's really in charge here," he said with a wink, loud enough for his men to hear. 

"Oh, you flatter me. I'm just doing my part, Ulbrecht." I winked back.

"It's commonly known Ragnar himself heeded your advice, and Bjorn does the same, despite... Well, you know. Any man that listens to you is wise." He knew how to charm a lady, no matter his orientation. 

"Thank you, Ulbrecht. That means a lot to me. I really meant what I said at your camp."

"And I noticed you've been walking around a bit to make sure everything went smoothly during the transition. It's helped a lot, your show of support. Most men seem to accept it now, albeit grudgingly."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm sure you'll prove invaluable in these next days." 

Ulbrecht walked off with his men. He walked a little taller, and with more confidence than before. If only that could last him the rest of his life. This chaos would be the perfect opportunity to kill him. The only thing he had going for him was that his warriors liked Harald even less. But it only took one well-placed knife. 

"Auntie," Sigurd said. "I'm done with the message." He held up the replica of the third message.

"Good, your brothers will no doubt figure it out." I turned around, but Sigurd's eyes burned a hole in my skull. "Sigurd. Don't try to force my hand. We'll send those messages as soon as the supplies have come in."

"And I told you, you're underestimating how bad it's likely become by now. I was there. You're not trusting my information."

I closed my eyes. He was right. "We need those messengers to get there under cover of night, if they're seen it could provoke Ecbert to make a move."

"Every hour counts. Those are your sons, dying out there. Hearing from you will lift their spirits enough to make it here alive, but they need to hear it, first. Bjorn gave you command of everything." A violent shudder coursed down my spine and back up. "He won't do a thing until you reach out. He's not a fool."

Sigurd was more adult than I'd realized. Back then I'd wondered about Bjorn being so easy in believing I had a plan, right before I'd told him I needed time. He'd always waited for me when he wasn't sure how I felt or what I thought. Back when I thought to break his heart, Bjorn had turned into an adult before my eyes, despite the age difference. Sigurd still looked young, but… Was this truly about the plan? Or did I want to keep Bjorn at a distance? "You know what do to?" 

Sigurd grasped the messages off the table and took off. He'd not see the doubt on my face, not while he was so certain of himself. Otherwise he'd have given me a bracing smile and that nod he'd inherited from Ragnar.

We had opted to send out three messengers, all taking different routes. The Saxons wouldn't know what to make of the runes we put on it, and the rest of the message was only verbal and cryptic. Bjorn would know what to do before the sun went down. Would he be here before we left? It all depended on how bad the situation was.

I rummaged around the food Ulbrecht had brought in. Sharing resources was unheard of for these people. Some brought everything along from the start, while others survived off the land. Vic had opted to be prudent; most of the supplies were grain and dried meat. Fresh ingredients would be difficult to transport, but provided at least some nutrients essential to keeping up the men's strength. The foraging had better prove fruitful. It was a risk to wait for it.

The bags of grain were too heavy for me to lift. The strain it put on my stomach-

"Where do you want it?" Ingolf stood by the entrance.

"If you have any grain you can put it aside, the rest can go on a pile with the rest. I'll sort it later."

"You need help, just ask. We're ready."

"Thanks, Ingolf. How's Sigfrid handling it?"

"I told his men. They'll come soon." He and his men added their supplies to the rest and left without saying a word. Their hearts filled with hatred for this plan. I'd have to keep an eye on them.

Ingolf lingered after his men had already left. His face was unreadable as ever, lips pulled taut to hide his hideous teeth. "I'm following you." He left before I could reply. 

It took a while for his words to sink in. I might have tried to make sure Harald was the face behind this whole operation, but some of them knew I was behind it all. As long as they went along with it, that was good enough for me. 

The rest was quick to follow. No one wanted to be last. When Sigurd returned we got to work quickly, and Carsten let us borrow two of his men to help us sort through it all. No doubt they counted the provisions and would report back, but that wasn't a secret as far as I was concerned. 

By the time Sigurd and I had finished, it was already time to dole out the food for supper. Everyone sent by a few men, and we handed out chests and suggestions on what to make with it. 

At dinnertime, a stillness fell over the camp. Begrudging acceptance. I allowed myself to relax a little. With the amounts we had, we had some to spare for Bjorn's camp. They'd had two extra days of hunger compared to Sigurd. If… If they still…


	55. The March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-06-815

The next day I gave out a larger portion than was smart for breakfast, knowing we'd all need our energy. Counting on all of us to make it back was foolish. Besides, with a long march ahead, everyone could use the energy. As we left a few cowards behind to guard the boats and the camp, Sigurd and I stayed in sight of the rations. All the earls had opted to send some men to help guard us, probably not wanting others to come near their fair share. 

"The others aren't here yet," Sigurd said as he looked back a last time. 

"We can't waste time." Phoebe was restless. She wanted to get a move on, as did the others. Harald just needed to get to the front and blow his horn, then we'd be off as soon as Halfdan confirmed he had the back under control. Most of the warriors were already in line, sitting on the ground with nothing but their weapons and a skin of water. Some had probably filled it from the river, though they had been warned about the danger of it still being toxic. We'd lose more people on the way to Ecbert's villa.

I had no room to care. My objective was to get us all to the villa. As many as we could manage, and then, strung-out, we'd fight Ecbert to the death. To all of our deaths. Helga knew what to tell the others when they made it over. Secure the water. Then get out as if Fenrir himself chased after them. Let the others fight the battle. Spread the boys over Scandinavia and take over the vacant earldoms, rebuild. Plan two, outcome number 4, contingent on them being able to get out through Northumbria. Twenty percent success rate, if Sigurd and I launched an assault to distract Ecbert. 

"Are you sure we can even make it there?" Sigurd asked. 

Plan one, outcome five. Zero percent chance of survival for the army, between five and ten for me and Sigurd. 

I flashed a fake smile for those who looked. "We have the gods on our side."

From behind, a horn sounded. My head snapped back. Halfdan was supposed to wait until Harald gave the first call. 

"That's-" Sigurd caught himself just in time. 

"Your brothers." Fuck. We didn't have time to dilly-dally. "We leave as soon as Harald is in position," I insisted. 

Sigurd cast a wan look backwards, but he stayed in position. 

"It's Ironside!"

I froze.

The men got up and left their places. "Ironside! The others are here to aid us!" Their voices consumed me. 

Jealousy flared up. It demanded that same response. The same veneration in their voices. I'd show them… Oh, they would never forget my name. But the rage inside of me wanted to go out there and hurt Bjorn. Another demon whispered to kill those who ignored my previous orders. A fourth demanded to charge head-long into Ecbert and his forces, that I could beat them all myself. 

"Ragnhild." Sigurd spoke softly.

My fingers squished Phoebe's reins. Hardly anyone was left in place. "This just cost us at least three hundred lives," I muttered, turning Phoebe around. Not to mention the strength it would cost to face Bjorn. "Get back in line!"

"Back to your places!" Sigurd shouted behind me. "We leave as planned!" He took a wide berth to spread the word. 

At the gate, people rushed to get back in. Halfdan only had to see my face to push back harder. "Fucking pussies! Get back there, now! Go on, get! Let the Valkyrie through! Back into positions!"

Phoebe was hesitant to walk into the crowd, but it parted as Halfdan's shouting continued. 

"We leave in ten minutes!" I promised them. "Any man who falls behind is left behind! The rest is headed for battle, and glory!"

"Women always take longer," one man close by said. The men around him snickered.

I drew my sword and held it before his throat. "It takes less than a second to kill you. But if you insist, I can take longer."

He held up his hands in deference, the surrounding men slinking back. My outfit helped inspire fear. It was more useful than I thought.

"Anyone else needs me to shave their balls!" I glanced around, sword high enough for people to see naked iron. The crowd dissipated, if only to keep me from swinging in their direction. Fragile fucks.

"Ten minutes!" Sigurd bellowed again. We passed through the gate, at last. 

Halfdan jumped down the palisades and looked up at me. "Where do you need me?"

"Get them back in line. Kill a few if they refuse."

His hand drifted to the knives on his belt. "Consider them in line."

I nodded. Phoebe halted before Harald's tent. 

Hvitserk waited outside, a huge grin on his face. "That was her!" He shouted inside. 

Sigurd went before me, guiding his brother inside the tent before I followed. Hvitserk meant to get closer, but Sigurd shoved him off. "Don't. You fucking idiots. All of you, what the fuck were you thinking?"

I stared at the map. Frozen, unable to look away. I couldn't care. Not now, not right before we were off to die. My eyes slid to the left. Bjorn stood there, whispering with Floki. My gaze stopped at the numbers next to the map. The odds. Those were safe. Numbers were my friends. I made my way over, Sigurd shadowing me all the while. 

"Watch your tongue, boy. We can take an hour to get Bjorn up to speed," Harald said. 

"No, we can't." I tracked the calculations on the wall. "The whole line broke up. We almost lost an hour because you went over my head. It would've cost another one to reform the line. That means three hundred lives, according to the odds. All because you're a stupid fuckface." 

Ivar was here, that meant plan one, outcome eight. If Bjorn spoke against me now, that would combine with outcome nine at the seventh variable-

"Ragnhild," Bjorn said. His voice sounded worried.

Cold sweat broke out all over my skin. Outcome eleven, Ivar didn't matter. I had to shut this down.

"Recuperate. Helga's in charge of the camp and the supplies. Harald. Sigurd. Floki. We move out, now." I turned around without a second glance for anyone. Only when I stood next to Harald did I pause. "You gave me your word. If you can't obey me, I swear to the gods, I'll curse you to the deepest circles of Helheim."

Ivar laughed out loud. "What's this? Some act to make us think you're in charge?"

"Ivar!" Floki rushed towards the kid, giving him a piece of his mind. Bjorn-

I turned back to Harald. "I left Helga with instructions for them. I talked over those instructions with you last night. I told you not to fuck up and try a petty attempt such as this. Give me one good reason not to kill you."

Sigurd brushed past me and held back Hvitserk again. Ubbe joined them. Floki still gave off on Ivar. I didn't dare look up to face-

"An extra hour won't kill us," he insisted. 

"Don't make me humiliate you in public," I hissed.

"Halfdan will avenge me," he hissed back. "You're not the only one with things at stake here."

He disgusted me. "This discussion is over. We'll speak more tonight. If I let you live that long." I shoved him towards the exit. 

Harald stumbled, to his own surprise, and left the tent. 

I turned my gaze to the table. "Helga will bring you up to speed. Tell her to focus on plan four. We don't have resources packed for extra men. You can come after us as long as you bring your own provisions. The water should be clean again at the end of the day. Make sure the horses will want to drink it and wait an hour to see if they're affected. They can take more poison than we, so be wary." 

Ubbe stepped forward, laying his hand close to mine. "We lost a lot of men to the water right after Sigurd left, so we have plenty of food left to follow soon after. We'll wait for the water to be safe, then come after you. Hvitserk will go with you to bring you up to speed."

One man shouldn't be too much of a bother. Not with Halfdan probably killing at least two while we waited. "Leave Bjarne here while you chase after us. Bring water for our return. Count on a quarter of the men." That would be too much, by a long shot. But I couldn't tell them the odds of us making it out.

"We'll leave Bjarne in charge here. He's proven himself, and I trust him." Good.

"How many men left?"

"Two thirds. Sixteen hundred." That meant over a thousand men had died on their end. Bad.

"Inform the others. Have them hand in their rations as well; it won't do to have ours on rations and not yours. We live and die together. Spoils are shared, my half gets a cut from my tax money."

"Hmm," Ubbe agreed. He did better than I'd expected. 

"I want to join right away as well," Ivar said. 

"No." I walked towards the exit. 

"Why can't I go?" My anger flashed hot instantly. I turned around, put my hands on the table and stared into his eyes. 

"Because I said so. You will listen to me, or I'll have you thrown in the river. Is that understood?" Ivar wanted to go against me again, but Floki put a stop to it. I didn't care to explain everything to the boy, and I didn't want to waste any more time. Ivar was a risk now we were on plan four, and I would treat him as such. "Let's get going." Everyone that mattered knew what to do and followed me out. Ivar still wanted to protest, but Floki explained it wouldn't get me to change my mind. 

"Ivar. She's not your auntie, anymore."

"Floki," I said. His bleeding heart got in the way; Ivar wasn't owed an explanation. We needed Floki on the march. He patted Ivar on the shoulder, then came along. 

"This had better work," Floki hissed at Bjorn. Bjorn looked up at the boat builder, then his eyes shot up at me. 

I walked. My left eye twitched slightly. My feelings stirred.

I guided Phoebe by the reins. Halfdan forced the column in line, who shouted and cursed like a berserker. Some non-essential people had opted to stay here with Bjorn. Good. They would only have hindered us, anyway. Shoulders high, head hunched low, I felt like an eagle observing it all. 

An arm embraced my shoulder. 

I ducked and grabbed hold of his arm, swinging underneath and turning it against a back. Hvitserk cried out in surprise. I pulled harder.

"Ragnhild," Floki said. 

I relaxed and let go. 

"Auntie, what the fuck?" My eye twitched a bit again, then I turned around and kept walking towards my place in the column. Fuck! Why could that boy not read a mood?

"Sigurd will explain," Floki said. "Until then, just ignore her, unless she tells you to do something. Go get a horse and join your brother at the supply carts in the middle." Floki clapped Hvitserk on the back to send him off. The boy still hesitated. "Tell them she said so!" He waved him off, annoyed at the delay.

I avoided Floki's worried face. He hid it too poorly. I couldn't deal with worry, or care, or emotions. The demons wouldn't allow it. They would make sure it consumed me. I needed to keep from fighting back at them, just for two, three days at the most. I needed to not care; our survival depended on it. 

At the baggage train, Sigurd stood by for my orders. I got on the horse and shoved everything down. Those blue eyes didn't mean shit to me. Neither his, nor his brother's. 

"Explain Hvitserk what he needs to know for the next three days. I can't have him trying to pull me back. Sound the horn as soon as you catch sight of him. Halfdan's almost done." Harald wouldn't know the difference either way, and I had to get away from this camp. Those blue eyes would haunt me.

"Understood."

"Keep Floki away, too. He's too worried."

"Understood." Good lad. We sat in silence for a minute, my impatience growing as Hvitserk no doubt took his sweet time. Men would die because of this delay. He kept me from doing my job. I should've left him here.

Sigurd sounded the horn, indicating that as far as I was concerned, we could start moving. Two more horns sounded, one from the back and one from the front. Not long after we started to get a move on. This was it. 

"Sigurd! Auntie!" Hvitserk's voice. Hoofbeats. Good. "Sigurd, what the hel is going on?"

"I'll tell you, but you have to keep your voice low. No sudden outbursts, or talking to Ragnhild until I'm done."

"But-"

"Ey. Listen. Ragnhild is in charge, and we all do her bidding. Don't call her anything but by her name, don't talk to her about anything other than the strategy, don't touch her unless she can see you, only when it's absolutely necessary, and keep a straight face when she can see. If you don't understand what she says, ask me or Floki. Don't make any jokes or try to get her to loosen up. How much do you know of the plan?"

"Sigurd..."

"I mean it. Follow these rules, or you can head back now." The boys remained silent for a moment. 

"So what, we forage while we march? How is that supposed to look?" Hvitserk remained silent. 

"All horses that are not needed here go out across the countryside and forage whatever they can carry that we didn't reach yesterday. If the peasants have hidden, we don't bother looking for them. Consider it a race to get as far as we can before we can't go any further tomorrow. The more distance we cross, the better our chances of survival are."

"How will we defend ourselves tomorrow night? There were hardly any trees left where we sent scouts."

"We only post guards, and sleep fully geared. No tents, nothing. Direct action."

"This is insane. I thought we'd be better off here, but-"

"This is survival."

"This is a death trap! Ecbert holds all the strings, and we just have to believe in..."

"In me," I finished for Hvitserk. "If you don't like it, leave. If you want to help, stay."

"I don't even recognize who you are." My eye twitched. 

"Hvitserk!" Sigurd intervened. "Get on board or get the fuck out. It's not too late to turn back yet."

I turned back to them. "Ride up to Floki. Talk to him, then make your decision." I needed Hvitserk to decide somewhere else. After a few seconds he rode off past me, not bothering to look back. "Thank you," I told Sigurd when he came up next to me. 

"You were right. He's too emotional."

"He's not seen me slide down deeper since the word came. I scare him. You'd be terrified, too, had you come across me like this not knowing."

"My brothers don't seem to understand how bad it is. Ivar..."

"He's too young for this. Too vain and stubborn."

"I'm just a little over a year older than him."

"And yet you understand. You weren't coddled like Hvitserk and Ivar."

"He triggered you, didn't he?" 

The sight of Bjorn had almost brought me back. I had wanted to yell at him for making me do this; I wanted to scream I was with child, and I had wanted to fuck him. "I should've shoved everything down before I came in there." Now, I'd slide down even worse. Every time I had to go back to embracing my demons, it became harder to come out again. Each time I came back, the demons ate a piece of my spirit.

Sigurd snorted. "I loved how you put down Ivar. He deserved that. Bjorn wouldn't give him what he wanted, so he tried again with you."

"Ivar lied. I know what Ragnar told him when they last saw each other. Ragnar had always intended for Bjorn to lead us. He only meant for us to go after Aelle."

Sigurd's face grew pale. "But-but that means..."

"We're only in this because of Ivar. He might have doomed us all."

"You should have thrown him in the river for that alone. Gods, if…" He tried to clear his troat, but only a weird groan came out. 

"It would have taken too long to convince Bjorn. I switched to plan four." I glanced to the side. Sigurd frowned, as if to remember. "Each hour of daylight we lose means Ecbert gains another hundred soldiers back from the scorching. The size and number of parties he sent out means we must face 2500 to 3000 soldiers. We have about three quarters of that at best, currently, and we'll be fatigued. The second force will have to finish it. Are you ready for that?" I was sending these people into an early grave, so Bjorn's people might make it out alive. The alternative was that we all would die. If Sigurd and I were to disappear before the battle, the column wouldn't fight hard enough to weaken Ecbert.

"If I die, I'll be glad to go up to Valhalla with you, Ragnhild. Surely the gods will serve us their largest feast ever."

"It would be pleasant to see Ragnar again. No doubt he'd love to hear our stories."

"Will I have to wait until Valhalla to hear you tell me the truth about Harbard?" A shiver ran down my spine. Sigurd didn't push me, but he did know me well enough to ask about all my dirty laundry now. Reminding me of my sins kept me comfortable with my demons.

"Harbard was my twin brother. He came from the same place I did." 

"But that would mean…" Sigurd glanced around, but no one listened in. Otherwise, he would've told me.

"My brother had sex with your mother. He also meant to kill me and tell Ragnar the truth about where we came from. Bjorn and I decided we'd have to kill him, as he threatened to expose me if I didn't help him escape and run off to England with him. It took too long to find out what Ragnar was planning to do with him, so I poisoned him. Do you remember how he died?"

His face scrunched up. "He fell down when he was on trial."

"I had already told Ragnar he would find out about me, at what turned out to be the day he died. He never pushed me on the subject again, thinking the gods had prevented my brother from telling him."

"Why did Mother never talk about Harbard again? I thought she loved him."

"As we buried him, we found out he was still a Christian."

"That would do it," Sigurd said with a sigh. Aslaug's disdain for Christianity was well known.

"Do you understand why I couldn't tell you before?"

"It must be one hel of a secret, if you'd kill someone to keep it safe."

"He was my first. I was serious about killing myself before putting that burden on you."

"I think you've told me enough secrets for now. I need to think on this for a while." Sigurd did his best to keep his emotions in check, but it was hard on him. No doubt memories were falling into place. 

I kept my eyes on the road ahead. Hvitserk and Floki were barely in sight, but they were clearly having an intense discussion. 

"Do you think your brother will stay?" I asked. 

"I'll go have a look," Sigurd said. Before he could ride off, I grabbed hold of his arm. 

"Don't copy me. Don't push it all down. It will only get worse until you will break."

"Just like you will?"

"I have no delusions, Sigurd. After we beat Ecbert, I need you to save me from myself. Don't do as I'm doing now. Don't do it over your mother, or Harbard. Don't make me regret showing you this side of me." 

His eyes softened as he took me in. "It's just hard, not having you to talk to." I blinked. Sigurd rode off towards Floki and Hvitserk, leaving me to mull over the numbers again in my head. Plan four had different factors to take into account with the numbers they had returned with. 


	56. The Voice of Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-06-815

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for posting a day late! I will take better care of my agenda next time and make sure I don't have to edit my chapters until 3 am and then oversleep when I want to continue early the next day~

As the sun began to set, Sigurd reminded me of everyone's need to eat.

I held up my hand against the horizon. "Just a while longer," I insisted. If my hunch was correct, we were about to hit the place where the scouts had found the burned down farm on our side of the river. Seeing the desolation in the fading light of day would remind everyone not to be a dick while we handed off rations. 

Sure enough, not fifteen minutes later the horde came to a standstill. Those before us only slowly gathered speed again. As it became our turn to peer over the hill, Sigurd sucked in a breath. I watched him intently. The shock lessened faster than that of those around us. His eyes found mine, begging to tell me it was a joke. 

It wasn't just the farm that had burned down. The whole forest beside it was reduced to ashes, only a few stumps left. Barely any grass had survived. Then again, the ground underneath us was muddy and soft. Such a massive army marching over the ground turned everywhere we went into a trail of mud. Bjorn would have no trouble trailing after us. 

Whispers of Ragnarök traveled down the column. Now was the time for us to act as leaders. To show we weren't afraid, and to guide our people through the scorched earth. 

I nodded forward. I'd have to gauge the men's faces during the break to see what the next move should be. Having them disheartened now would result in disastrous odds—not that they were good, now. 

"Sigurd. Start handing out the packets." He looked up from the scenery. 

"Hvitserk!" Sigurd pulled on the reins of his horse. "Start handing out the food. Riders! Change rotation!" He did well. Being a leader came naturally to him. As he took care of the food distribution with his brother, I focused on the faces around me. Harald would stop going when he'd gotten food and judging by the scenery—as I'd feared back in camp—he wouldn't have to look hard for a place big enough for all of us to strike down. 

The riders circling the rations handed out packets of food to everyone. It was all hastily baked bread, but it gave the men plenty of carbs. Dried meat and half a piece of fruit had to suffice for the other half of their dinner. When everyone had gotten a pack, Sigurd blew his horn, and as two signals returned to us, we halted. Everyone had deserved a break, especially the horses. The moment they slowed us down, they'd have to get slaughtered for meat.

The sun descended on the horizon. Five fingers left until sunset. We'd have a full hour of rest and get back to marching by sundown. 

How had Ecbert felled the entire forest for miles around? We hadn't caught a whiff of smoke from the camp. Such a fire, surely…

I chuckled. That bastard had burned it long before we'd come here. 

He'd burned it before we even set foot in England. My face fell. Ecbert had known we would come here, somehow. This hadn't been Ivar's influence. Ragnar's? He must've let something slip. But then why had he warned me to stay home, and not his sons as well? They'd played him. Despite working on his plan for revenge for ten years, bits and pieces all working together, Ragnar had lost. This was how bad his defeat had been.

I got down. Phoebe pulled up her nose at the burned earth, whinnying. She'd have to survive off hay and fruit until we hit the villa. "Don't mope," I warned her. "We all suffer." I kicked at the ground. The top soil came loose easily. Not a speck of ash was left. This had burned down weeks ago. New blades of grass already made their way through the top layer, but they were yellowing. First the fires and now a drought? It hadn't rained since the fire? But that was impossible. I must've missed something. 

It didn't matter when Ecbert burned down the forest, not while we were marching. The men had to stop moping around. Their grim faces dragged me down. "He burned only the top!" I declared. "Ecbert can't even kill his own country! We'll get that fuckface!"

It caused but a small ripple in their fears. I'd have to come up with something more convincing during the break.

I gathered my own packet of food and sat down a small distance off, where I could see what was happening. A stump nearby blackened my shirt. I'd send Ecbert the dry cleaning bill. 

Hvitserk joined me, a skin in his hands. 

"You stayed," I stated. 

"Floki convinced me. Sigurd was just… weird."

"I told him something he's been wondering about for at least twelve years." 

Hvitserk calculated back in his head. "Harbard?" I nodded. "No wonder he rode with us for so long. Will you tell me, too?"

"I can't afford to have both of you distracted. Maybe later." We still had about 24 hours of marching ahead of us. Plenty of time to remind me of all my mistakes.

He hung his head, staring at his bread. "I understand. Why you're doing this. I knew things were bad, but what you had to do…"

I brushed his comment away before he could finish his thought. "Later."

"You did amazing. Only a handful of dumb fucks died in your camp."

"More will die tonight, and tomorrow. The march will claim plenty of lives. The rations are not enough to satisfy a full-grown man for the amount of walking we need to do until the next meal. We barely have enough water. We'll find the first thieves before long. We must kill every one of them. If we don't, more and more will come." 

Hvitserk glanced at the cart, his eyes narrowing. "How many do you think will make the journey back?"

He couldn't lose hope just yet. Small steps. "About a quarter."

"But then… The supplies, we're going through them too fast." 

"I had to leave more for the second force more than I thought. You brought more men than I calculated for. That means our survival rate changed to one in ten. If Bjorn makes it in time."

"There's a chance we'll all die…"

"Does that bother you?" 

Hvitserk's face pulled into a grin. "If anything, it makes me excited. We've only had one real battle so far."

"You make it sound like dying is fun. It's not. It's just darkness and nothingness." 

Hvitserk didn't let my words deter him. "That was back when you didn't believe in anything. You believe in our gods now. It will be different next time."

"Perhaps." I bit into the piece of bread, then swallowed it down with some water Hvitserk offered me. 

"Harald's coming this way. Should I get Sigurd?" 

I thought for a second, then decided against it. "Tell him of what you heard later. I need him to keep doling out water now." I finished the food and drank more water. 

"Ragnhild, Hvitserk," Harald nodded at us before sitting down. I got the map from my satchel, laying it out in front of us. 

"How far do you think we've come?" I asked. I couldn't force my voice to sound interested.

Harald hesitated. "About… About before, you were right."

Annoyed, I waved my hand around. I'd asked him a question. 

"The scouts Halfdan sent out yesterday recognized the area. About here, I'd say." He pointed at a point about a third into the route. I narrowed my eyes, thinking if the map was accurate in the distances between where we left and where we meant to go. 

"What are you thinking about?" Hvitserk asked. 

I cast my eyes towards the sky for a moment, then took in a deep breath. "We left about an hour before noon. At this latitude the sun sets at about half past ten in the evening at the summer solstice which is… four weeks from now. That means it will set around ten past nine, which is in about fifteen minutes." I raised up my hand. One finger left between the sun and the horizon. "With the sun rising at around six thirty, that means your noon is at around one in the afternoon now. We've been marching for about nine hours so far." 

Hvitserk's eyes crossed.

"A normal human pace is about five, six kilometers an hour, let's say five to be safe. We've crossed about 40 kilometers today."

"That's about three and a half miles as we know them," Harald said.

Hvitserk looked troubled. "How can you be so sure? About the time, and the distance." 

My brows knitted together. "I just know. Harald, how far was it last time?"

Harald looked up from Hvitserk. "Best estimate is around ten miles." 

I grunted at his response. We were only a third of the way, with 24 hours left for our best chances at denting Ecbert's forces. "We'll have to pick up the pace." My hand slid over the blackened stump. I hadn't calculated on Ecbert working this far in advance, but I hadn't thought of him burning down entire forests, either.

"What do you mean? We're right on schedule," Harald said.

"No. From those 24 hours, we must spend at least five resting. The horses are already getting weary, we'll have to change the ones who pull the carts out before we move again. Halfdan just went off foraging, but if he takes too long finding us, we could lose another two hours. So that means we have seventeen hours left of walking. We have to keep up this pace if we are to catch Ecbert by surprise." Hvitserk nodded at my explanation. He didn't understand at all.

Harald grunted. "I'll keep up the pace. Any thieves yet?"

"Not until nightfall."

"Do you trust the guards we've put on it?"

"No. But I trust that they don't trust each other. They'll keep an eye on each other."

Hvitserk cleared his throat. "What are you going to do to those thieves?"

Dumb questions... I frowned again. "Kill them. Make it hurt. I'll slice open their bellies. Their cries will deter any other attempts. Throats are easier, but less deterring." 

Harald shook his head. "May the gods be with us," he said. "Let me know when you are ready to leave." Low morale. He needed to shine.

"I will. Harald… We will get through this. If anyone knows how to tell death to fuck off, it's me." He shook his head again, but this time a slight smile graced his face. 

"I don't know whether to be impressed or scared, Ragnhild," Hvitserk said. 

I mostly noted admiration in his voice. "If you think Bjorn had to make hard choices in Spain, you've seen nothing yet."

"Spain?"

I waved off south. "Andalusia. From behind that gulf down to that isle where you saw Odin."

"Let me guess, you just know." 

I gave him a sparing smile. "You came along to brief me. Tell me, how has Ivar behaved since Sigurd left?"

"He was pushing for a blind rush too, but without the supplies. We spent a lot of time talking him down." 

I let out a grunt of disapproval. Who knows how much better they'd have done if he didn't have Ivar to keep down. 

"It was rather refreshing to hear you talk about throwing him into the river."

"Had he said another word, I might have." Did I just make a joke? Anxiety shot through my chest. "Hvitserk. Take over from Sigurd and send him here."

"But the… Is everything all right?"

"Now." The longer he lingered, the harder it was to keep my body from collapsing into spasms. "Go!" Finally, he got up and ran over to his brother. 

A tremor took over my left arm. Closing my fist kept it back, but not for long. My breathing grew worse. The spasms spread to my stomach. I closed my eyes and forced down the tears that welled up. All of my body screamed out, wanting to collapse into a sobbing mess.

Sigurd must have come running back here. "Ragnhild," he said in a calm but breathy voice. "Keep it down. You're not nearly done here. Stop this at once." The spasms kept coming. I almost doubled over. No one could see. No one could know. Just Sigurd. He knew how to keep me from spiraling. 

Sigurd cleared his throat. His tone turned cold and demanding. "You worthless, stupid cunt. You really think it's that easy? You really think I'll let you get away with this? Stop crying, right now. I said, stop it!" 

The spasms lessened. He sounded just like my father. It made all the wrong instincts kick in. The ones I'd survived on so long. The ones Halfdan called my demons. 

"You dumb bitch, get your fucking act together. We can't afford you breaking down; we need to get to church. Get your fucking ass over here or I'll give you something to cry about." Down. Those feelings had to be crushed. I wouldn't survive if I kept crying and cowering before him. "What are you going to do, cry me to death? Get a fucking grip. You're a worthless whore. If you can't find your way back to God, you're not worth the air you breathe." The tremors died down. Ice slid down my throat, all the way down to my stomach. I lay down on my back, staring up as the stars shone brighter by the second. 

"It worked," I said, barely any emotion left in my voice. 

"Did he screw up?"

"No. I did. Hvitserk's a liability."

"I'll keep him away."

"Sigurd." I stared at my horse. "It gets harder every time."

"Do you need the other talk?" 

It didn't feel important to go through pain. Why would I ever want to hurt like that again? "Maybe after the first thieves. Go check on Hvitserk. He'll fall for that trick with the sick baby." Sigurd reacted immediately and left me alone. 

If Halfdan took longer than two hours to find us, we'd have to increase the tempo. That would affect morale, which was already low. Perhaps some songs would improve it, but there was already enough risk of scouts finding us with Halfdan's troops returning. We couldn't afford to do battle with Ecbert now. The wounded would need to be taken care of or sent back. That would cost either a lot of convincing, a lot of resources, or a piece of my sanity as I'd have to kill those unable to join for the rest of the march. 

I sat up and glanced around the army. If I were to disappear now, they would fall into chaos and only a handful would make it back to meet up with Bjorn's force. They would be surrounded in no time at all, and almost none of us would make it back to Norway. Our bones would be burned in mass graves, and either be buried or disintegrate and drift off in the wind in a few years. 

Sigurd and Hvitserk gave out water together now, and the line of people waiting soon disappeared completely. Floki kept himself busy with a piece of wood and a blade, missing Helga. Some people lay down on the grass, hoping to catch a few minutes of sleep now they still could. Those were the smart ones. They would make it to the villa. Plenty would leave the march and wait for the second force so they could rest up. Another reason they fucked up by arriving when they did.

A few other men were deep into their cups, judging by their movements and horns in hand. The ale provided some nutritional value at the least, though it also made them more likely to steal off the cart. If I was lenient on the first few thieves, I would open the floodgates. Perhaps we'd be better off leaving Halfdan to track after us. That way we'd have two longer breaks shortly after another, but it would mean a boost in morale if they considered it as leniency. It all depended on how much luck Halfdan would have had foraging, however. If he came back with meagre rations, we'd end up with even less morale. 

I got up and walked towards the rear, making my way up to Harald to tell him what the plan would be. I had to see their faces for myself. Memorize them, before I'd kill them.

Seeing me did a lot to encourage the men. I hadn't thought to wear my outfit, but people didn't have to for them to recognize me. Asking them how they were holding up made them want to boast how they weren't tired at all and could go on for three more days. I praised their valor, then moved on to the next group. Either these people didn't know about the odds they were facing, or they were glad to be part of the first group, hoping it would bring them more fame and glory. At any rate, the scorched earth seemed to not effect them as much anymore.

As I got up to the rations carts, I stopped by to see how the water supply was hanging on. Sigurd had kept a close eye on it and had cut it off for now. Hvitserk stayed at a distance.

"Pass on my compliments to the guards," I told Sigurd. If there ever were people I needed to keep satisfied, those guards were it. I went on through the rest of the column until I reached Harald. 

"Anything amiss?" he asked. 

"Morale is better than I thought."

"You do know how to brighten up a death march."

This wasn't the time to make jokes. "We might be better off having Halfdan catch up to us, but he's got another hour."

Harald kept a straight face. "I saw Sigurd running up to you before."

"Forty-seven hours," I said. Worst-case scenario, that was how long it would take to either die or find a place to break down. 

"I look forward to celebrating our victory." He didn't sound all that convinced.

Halfdan returned shortly after. Some farms had pulled out whatever crops they had, having heard of the fate of nearby farms. That meant we had some vitamins for tomorrow at breakfast. Halfdan and the boys helped me sort the chaos that ensued as the fresh supplies came in. The few beggars that came running were kept at a distance by the guards. They kept their eyes open.

I felt confident we could keep any thieves away. With Hvitserk in front of the carts and Sigurd halfway through, I breathed a little easier. So far, so good.

Judging by the faintly visible moon two hours had passed when a woman came up to me to ask me something about breakfast. I was instantly alert. 

"Don't worry," I told her. "We'll hand out some vegetables we got our hands on today. They wouldn't have brought them if they were unsafe to eat."

"Are you sure? I left my baby back at the camp, and I'm still breastfeeding…" 

Just because I was a woman didn't mean I had any compassion for such a sob story, and that was only the least of how people loved to underestimate me. No woman would come on this suicide mission if she had a baby to take care of. 

As soon as we'd handed out rations, all kinds of women had claimed to be with child, hoping to squeeze out some extra food or water. The first few women I had refused on grounds that if word got around, everyone would try to get some extra for whatever reason they could think of. They were feeling a little under the weather and had to have some extra fruit. Others complained of feeling light-headed and needed some extra meat. If I hadn't been in so deep, I'd have relented at least a few times. 

"I am sure. We'd never risk it. You and your baby are safe." Another woman was chatting up Sigurd, and other riders had people talking to them as well. This was a coordinated attempt. I whistled, signaling for a change in the pairing of the riders. It deterred some women, but not all. At least everyone was sharp again.

"Oh, okay," the woman said. "I just wanted to ask, because we've never been on rations before… It's a bit unsettling, to be honest." 

I ignored her, looking around to see if I could notice anything out of the ordinary. When I got out my bow, the woman scampered pff. A shadow moved around on the ninth cart, one removed from me. I nocked an arrow and waited for the person to lift a water skin. I hit him in the shoulder, causing him to cry out in surprise. Showtime. 

I rode up to the cart. The guards already dragged him off the cart, leaving him to fall to the ground. At least he had the courtesy not to bleed all over the bread. I got off and yanked out my arrow. 

"No, please! We missed the water earlier, we were just thirsty!" We? 

I glanced around and shot off another arrow, another body falling off the same cart. Had I missed him before? Hvitserk called the carts to stop, and the guards searched them. The people behind us stopped, hushed voices talking about what was happening. 

"Take off their shirts!" I called out. "Bring them here!" I unsheathed the sword I'd strapped to my packs; a smile came to my face. I'd been waiting for this. 

Three men got forced before me, in a line, staring at me as if I'd been the one at fault. I paced before them. Two more appeared.

I took in a deep breath. "We live together, and we die together. You tried to steal from these carts, and thereby from every person here. On your knees."

A murmur flared up in the crowd. "She won't kill us," one of them sighed. He went to his knees willingly, but the other four refused. They had to be persuaded by the men holding them back. 

"The cowards before me would sicken the crows they wish to feed. Only men deserve to die on their feet." 

"No! You can't do this to us!"

"Ragnhild, stop! No, let me stand up!"

I pushed the point of the sword into the belly of the first man, slitting it open from one side to the other. I licked my lips as blood flowed from the wound. In the faint light of the torches it looked black. 

The others begged for their lives, asked to stand up, but the crowd was on my side. All five of them soon cried out in pain. They would suffer before they went to Helheim. Goosebumps appeared on my arms. 

As I wiped the blood off the sword Sigurd approached me. "You're smiling," he said. 

"What of it? Can't I enjoy my duties?" I put the sword back and got back in the saddle. "We're leaving." 

Sigurd grabbed the reins of my horse. His eyes bored into mine. "I hope you come back and will still be my mother."

A shiver raced down my spine. Freydis. My promise to her. The men screaming right beside me no longer sounded beautiful. What kind of psychopath was I turning into? Was that what waited for me when I'd slip in too far? Would I turn into my father?

I refused to meet his eyes. "We need to get going. Thank you." 

Sigurd must have seen the pained look in my face as he turned around and got back on his horse. He got back on and started walking again, whistling ahead to Hvitserk. Another shiver ran down my spine. Freydis… Siggy, Thormund, my unborn child. I couldn't fall in too deep like that again. I needed to come out of this in one piece. 


	57. The First Faint Light of Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-06-815

We halted again at first light. Exhausted, many people lay down for as long as they could. They’d have about two hours, and they wanted to make the most of it. The suggestion to eat while they walked after the break was taken up by most. I wanted to sleep, too, but I didn’t want to leave the carts out of my sight. Only forty hours left. Then I could fall apart. 

Hvitserk, Floki, and some guards gave out food for breakfast. After my vulgar display of power yesterday, no one caused trouble. I waited in line for my portion and walked off a bit, waiting for Harald and Halfdan. The people needed to see that we didn’t give ourselves any preferential treatment. 

We sat down far enough from the rest to have some privacy. 

Halfdan couldn’t wait until we were all seated on the grass. “How did you get those bodies mutilated like that?”

I focused on my food. 

“They were hardly recognizable as human. When I reached them, half were missing limbs.”

“She sliced them open and left them to die,” Sigurd said. Halfdan’s eagerness melted away. “Sounds like those who came after us did the rest. Ragnhild, what about the women who tried to distract us? Should we search them out?”

I swallowed my food. “They’ll be moving in the circles of those I killed. Their fear will serve as a cautionary tale for the others who think to make a move.”

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Harald said between two bites. 

Even he realized how out of touch I was becoming. “One of my demons interfered. Sigurd fixed it.” 

“What kind of demon?” Halfdan asked. He looked no worse for wear, despite having been off to raid the few remaining farms. Was he used to shitting conditions like this?

I stared at him, thinking back to when he’d wanted to kill me. It was a lifetime ago. “The kind that wants to see blood rain down from the sky.” 

He choked down whatever he was chewing on. Back then I’d been sure he had only been messing with me, trying to get me to think he was a monster and leave him alone. Either it shocked him I remembered him telling me about it, or he felt strange that I had one of those demons, too. As he caught me staring, he looked down at his food again. 

“That sounds troubling,” Harald said. “Are you sure it’s contained?”

“It has to be. Forty hours.” Then I could crash down. Sigurd knew what I’d need and who to keep back.

“Less,” Halfdan said. “I’d say we’re about two-thirds of the way.”

That meant those ten miles of Harald’s were an overestimation. Or Vestfold miles were shorter than those Kattegat used. Then again, the scorched earth burned down most natural obstacles which had increased our pace. No forests to go around. Interesting. Had Ecbert taken that into account? Was he even aware that we were out of the camp? His scouts must have been traveling at roughly the same speed as us, if they took regular breaks to save their horses from strain.

“Seven hours of marching at roughly the same pace means we’ve covered a little over seventy kilometers. I expect to call a halt in another eleven, including breaks. At the next halt we can pick some people to stand guard as the rest sleeps, they can crawl up in a cart for the last part of the march.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Sigurd said. “How was morale along the way?” 

“Everyone’s too tired to care much, really,” Harald said. 

“I came across some lively people,” Halfdan said. “Seeing Ragnhild kill people with a sword for trying to steal water will do that to you.”

My head snapped in his direction. “You left your position?”

He put up his hands. “No. I heard the men talk on my way over.”

Fuck. I had to still this paranoia. 

Halfdan spoke up again, half-chewed bread moving in between his teeth. “The second force sent a man ahead; they’re about two hours behind.”

“Sun hours?” I asked. As he raised his eyebrow, I knew enough. Sundials were great for keeping track of time, but depending on the time of year, an hour lasted 45 to 75 minutes. Which meant they were about three hours behind in future time. They rushed themselves into an early grave. The pace we kept was grueling, unfit for the weak, and even the strong would need a few days to recover afterwards. Except, they had to fight a battle instead.

“We won’t wait for them,” Sigurd said. 

I nodded. Having to spread the word we’d take a longer break, finding people willing to stand guard, it was all too much trouble for little gain. The only good thing to come with the second force was the water supply. “We have enough water for the time being. How are the horses holding up?”

“They’re not liking this one bit. But with the second force close behind, we can let some of them rest for longer and leave them for the others to find. I’ll go see which ones are better off staying here.” 

“Check their heart rates,” I remembered. “Should be below seventy. We’ll meet up with the second force tonight.” 


	58. In Too Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 02-06-815

Aside from the guards that circled us, everyone slept in the mud. Sigurd and Hvitserk lay beside me, too exhausted to snore. The stars were out again, and they unnerved me. The weather unnerved me. The soft breeze unnerved me, as did the knowledge the second force was close. Part of me wanted to hurry towards Ecbert, just so I could avoid seeing him again. 

I pushed down those feelings. There was no reason to fear Bjorn, or Ecbert. Both armies had exhausted their men over the past few days. This would be a battle of wills and endurance. In that regard, we had the advantage. It didn't equate to their walls and fortifications, but desperation was useful when used right. I'd have to inspire the men to move mountains. And for that, I needed to hold on to that shred of humanity. The shred that told me I still cared. There was no more room for mistakes.

"Ragnhild," a voice hissed. 

I sat up straight. The faint light from above wasn't enough to see who it was. "Over here. Did they arrive?"

The shape came closer. Tall, but not that broad. Not him. "Just a few minutes ago." He went too far left.

"Sigurd." I pushed at his ribs. "Wake up, they're here. Sigurd."

He jumped up. The other shape came closer. Ubbe. He kept his distance as Sigurd got to his feet. 

I looked away as the brothers reunited. Sentimental goats. My eyes slid over Hvitserk. He needed to rest. Whatever we had to do, we could do it without him. Leaving my cloak in the mud, I got up, too. 

"How is she?" Ubbe asked.

"You don't want to know." Sigurd glanced back. "What do we need to do first?"

I inched closer towards them. Ubbe didn't understand my need for distance, but he cooperated. Like I'd known he would. "The men need to rest. Take a few of our guards and merge the provisions." Sigurd nodded and went off. He skipped past the sleeping bodies with a lithe pace that I wouldn't be able to mimic. "Ubbe. How many did you lose?" 

"Your group left behind a very clear signal what people could expect if they tried to leave."

I frowned. Those had been thieves. Had I missed an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone? "That's not an answer."

"Negligible. Maybe twenty."

Twenty… That meant we had almost 3500 men left. I'd want a fresh count in the morning, at daybreak. With these numbers, we might let the men rest for an additional hour. Ever since we'd set out, the circumstances were shifting in our favor. The distance was less than expected, we had more men, and that all meant Ecbert had fewer. In our hour of need, these advantages were what would pull us through. It was good news to share, visible for the men to boot. From the worst-case scenario, everything could only ever get better. 

"Three thousand five hundred, if our counts are right." Mine was accurate.

Ubbe sighed in relief. "That's good news. I ran into Halfdan just now, he said we were three hours away from the villa."

"Three?" My mind raced. Why hadn't Halfdan told me the moment he'd found out? He must've been trying something with Harald. It'd been a mistake to trust them, either of them. They would ruin me, one day. Perhaps it was best to kill them in their sleep tonight. No one would bat an eye, not with me in command. 

No, I couldn't spend time on paranoia. Not now. Three hours meant we were at Ecbert's door. My eyes darted over the field. Had I put out enough guards? Ecbert was too smart to not realize we were this close already. From here on out it was a toss-up. The gods only knew what our best course of action was. Rest for the men or forcing Ecbert's hand before he could recall his troops. How large were those parties? I'd assumed groups of ten, but what if he'd only burned our marching route? That meant he had more men than I'd calculated. How badly did Ecbert want us to die? How much was he willing to give up? What would his nobles let him get away with?

I frowned. He could've killed his nobles. But then their families would've revolted. It wasn't sustainable. The nobles lived. Ecbert was smart enough to realize that would've led to mutually assured destruction at best. What would my father do? It wasn't worth it if he couldn't benefit from it. The lands towards the south were untainted. That meant he'd have a force equal to ours. We'd need at least two hours of extra rest to ensure the army could put up half a decent fight. We'd have to burn through the rations and send out scouts to the south to bring in supplies as soon as the battle was over. It was a risk either way. 

"Au—Ragnhild?" Ubbe stepped in beside me. The provision cart was placed at the edge of the circle, to keep thieves away. Sigurd's shape bossed around men twice his age. Instead of adding another cart, he had them transfer the new provisions to the existing carts. Smart. 

Ivar's chariot approached the other carts.

My face grew intent. "No." Ivar couldn't put his chariot there. He'd obstruct the line of vision for the watchmen. I turned back to tell Ubbe to help out. "I need—

Bjorn. I froze. My face flushed. I couldn't look away. I couldn't face him. My breathing slowed down. How had I not seen him approach us?

"Ragnhild," he said. He stood too close. Three feet was too close. His face was covered in dirt, the fur on his cloak filled with clumps of dried up dirt. 

My teeth gently clattered. A spasm tore through my jaw. "Hvitserk. Hvitserk!" He had to wake up, or—

"You did well." 

His words were a paper cut across my heart. 

The clattering grew worse. I couldn't tear my eyes off of him. "Hvitserk!" I kicked at his arm.

Hvitserk groaned and turned around. 

"Let him sleep," Ubbe said. He put a hand on my arm and blocked my view of Bjorn.

It didn't matter. Bjorn was still there. A sob tore through my body, hampering my breath. My face remained placid. The empty feeling of desperation rose to my throat. I felt myself shrink back even further. Ubbe's hand burned through my defenses.

Bjorn stepped into my line of sight. "I just wanted to say hi."

Hvitserk let out a low groan as he rose to his feet. "Don't touch her!" Still half asleep, he pushed his brother away. The contact broke. A tremor took over my left hand. Bjorn reached out to me.

"Shut up! I'm trying to sleep," someone shouted from nearby. 

"Fuck off, both of you!" Hvitserk slapped away Bjorn's. "Go get Sigurd. She needs him." 

I took a step back. With every breath, more panic filled my chest. A huge pit formed in my stomach. Bjorn was here. He'd caught up. He loved me. 

A tear welled up. It pushed itself out, despite the pressure to go down again. My face contorted. 

"Ubbe, please! Get Sigurd here, now!" Hvitserk pushed at Ubbe, who could only stare at me. Finally, he turned around and went off. 

That left… He… 

His eyes. Damn those beautiful blue eyes. My body recoiled as if to hurl. But it wasn't bile coming up. I sank to my knees. 

"No, listen to me. The moment you touch her, we're all dead. Sigurd is the only one who can fix this. You…" His voice trailed off.

"What, Hvitserk? Do you mean to lecture me?"

"It's what she wants." Hvitserk's voice squeaked. He cleared his throat. "No touching by anyone. You're hurting her."

"I'm not even touching her!"

"These are her orders, not mine. Please, just—after the battle we can talk. But for now, do as she says."

"If she wants me gone, she can tell me so herself."

Lying on my side, clutching my stomach, I fought the spasms. My eyes watered the few strands of grass that still stood up. I couldn't do this anymore. We'd all die. I'd never see my children again. Unless I made a break for it. Which horse was most rested? I could make it far enough to escape the slaughter. I'd just pose as a trader's widow again and make my way back to Kattegat the long way around. But I'd have to get up for that.

I couldn't do that with Bjorn around. He had to go first. Then I could escape. He would hold me back. He'd keep me here and force me to be ruthless again. That was too much. I couldn't do it. I'd already sent so many men and women to their deaths. I'd soaked these hands in blood. Thousands. Half our army was gone. I'd let them die. It wasn't just murder. I was closer to a mad dictator, and somehow everyone had allowed me to become one. 

"The fuck are you doing here!" Sigurd's words crashed into me. 

I was too weak. I couldn't live up to his perfect image of me. I'd let him down. Just another thing I failed at. I wasn't worthy of being his auntie.

"If you don't get away from her, I swear on Odin's eye I will shove my sword from your prick up to your throat." The song of iron out to play silenced the surrounding mutters.

Bjorn scoffed. 

Would he hurt me again? When he'd finally have his way and touched me? Did he blame me for all those deaths? He'd hurt me before. A thousand tiny insults, mistakes, and secrets. I couldn't face him. I'd let him hurt me like that. This was all my fault. I couldn't do anything right. I deserved to hurt like this. It was useless, anyway. We'd all die, all because of me. A sob escaped, accompanied by a soft whimper.

"Hvitserk, chase him off."

"Oh, err…" They scuffled about for a few seconds. What for? What good would it do to keep him back now? He'd get to me, eventually. No use stalling the inevitable. He'd hurt me… Just like my father had, once upon a time.

Unless I'd hurt him first. 

Unless I didn't feel anything at all.

Sigurd's face sank down in the mud beside me. "Ragnhild. How are you feeling?" 

The spasms died down. My eyes forced out a last tear, then dried up. I took him in. His eye looked weird. I wondered if he saw light differently because of it. I didn't feel like asking. 

"I don't feel anything." 

Why was he so sad? Why did he want to feel anything at all? My eyes flashed across Sigurd's face, as if the answer his in his eyes.

"Do you remember your daughter?" he asked. 

"It's too late for that." I lifted my head. Without cover around, I felt naked. I needed walls, or a tree. Something to hide my back.

"I hope you come back and will still be my mother."

I got to my feet. Hvitserk held Bjorn at sword-point. Neither looked happy. Not that I cared. 

"Ragnhild." Bjorn sidestepped the sword and came too close. Where was my bow? "Why are they acting so strange?"

I blinked. "Who?"

"The boys," he said as he stepped forward. Short blade on his right. Sharp end to his back. Easy slice across his stomach. From there his jugular. Or his sword. That sounded like more fun. "What are they going on about?"

"I don't care. You figure it out. I'm not their mother." I turned off to the side. 

"No, wait. I just want to talk. Ragnhild."

"Rest up. I'll check on Ubbe." Without waiting for a response, I walked to the carts. In the background, Sigurd whispered rather angrily. He wasted too much time on emotions. Who needed fear and anger, anyway? I was perfectly fine. No one would ever hurt me again. I'd done the boys a disservice to teach them otherwise.

Ubbe noticed something was off. He didn't ask about it, but his eyes were wary. 

"How much longer?" I asked. 

"It's mostly sorting through our leftovers." The men took too long searching through their carts. 

They hadn't even packaged everything in smaller portions, yet. Amateurs. "I asked a question."

His eyes narrowed. "We're almost done. Do you need extra guards?"

That still wasn't an answer. "No. I'll take over. Go to your brothers."

Ubbe sized me up, not entirely convinced. "I trust you," he said.

How long would it take him to realize what had changed? "Don't wait up." I moved to the other side of the cart. I didn't need to see what went on with those brothers. They were waking up half the field over nothing.


	59. Kill Your Heroes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-07-815

I woke up to a whispered conversation between Sigurd and Hvitserk. It halted the moment I opened my eyes. 

Those around us were still asleep. As I blinked a few times, I remembered the second force had arrived.

"Did we wake you?" Hvitserk asked. 

"No." I sat up, the faint light chasing the stars from the sky. We'd chase off those Saxons the same way. "Any news? No? Good. We've had about eight hours of rest, so we should give them another three, at least. Wake them up in two."

"Do you want to talk about what happened last night?" Sigurd asked. 

I took him in. Why did he care? I was here to do my job, and I'd do it, gods be damned. "Where's Ivar?"

"What?" Sigurd got up as I did. "Why do you want to see him?"

"He's the last to see Ecbert's villa. I need information."

Sigurd's angry eyes didn't hurt me. He should know better than to let his feelings interfere with the plan. "It's outdated."

"It's a start. Halfdan's scouts haven't yet returned."

"How can you know?"

"Why do you doubt me?" I would not condone insubordination. 

Sigurd glared, a nerve above his lip pulling up. But he nodded off in the distance and walked ahead of me. "Have you come up with a plan yet?"

"It all depends on where we'll fight."

"What do you want me to do!" Hvitserk called out after us. 

"Carts," I replied, then turned back to maneuvering through the sleeping bodies. "Now he's here, I need Ivar to draw out the defenses. From there I can estimate what Ecbert added to his defenses." The boy should be glad that I was thinking that far ahead. It meant there was a chance we'd actually get to kill ourselves against Ecbert's walls.

"You can't know for sure," Sigurd insisted. 

Would he really make me say it out loud? "This is about Ivar."

"He'll taunt you, you'll hurt him, and then he'll take it out on me."

"Then should I sharpen my blade? Kill him when I'm done with him? Is that what you want?"

Sigurd turned around. I couldn't read his face. He stared at me, hands hanging by his side, doing nothing. 

He wanted to. He wanted to talk to me, but it wasn't shame that held him back. Whatever he wanted to ask his auntie, he couldn't ask me.

Ivar slept off from the rest, next to his chariot. Sigurd kept his distance, arms crossed. He didn't want to be here.

I pulled the fur off Ivar's back. 

He looked around, confused until his eyes found me. "Auntie?"

"I need information. Now."

Wary, he leaned up. "What about?"

"The villa. Do you remember how it looked? What are their defenses like?"

"You didn't let me come with you," he sneered. "Why would I help you?"

I went to my knees, knife in hand. "I'm not here for your ego. If you refuse to help me, I'll slit your throat." 

Ivar's eyes shifted to Sigurd's. Whatever he saw, it scared him. Dumb emotions. They were a weakness. "What do you need to know?"

"How high are the walls? What kind of wood?"

"A—about eight feet. I don't know what kind of wood."

"Did they treat it with something? Like we do with our ships?"

Ivar's eyes flashed towards Sigurd's again. "Why would that matter?"

One. Two. Three. Four... "If they take care of their walls, that means they wouldn't sacrifice them to build something stronger. Did they reinforce them from behind? Or was the wall lodged in the ground?"

"They… The wood was unevenly dark. The reinforcements reached up to Father's shoulders."

I grunted. Assholes. We wouldn't be able to knock those over. Then again, maybe Ecbert counted on that wall holding us back. We'd meet his men out in the field, and what was left of us would then have to storm the villa. "Any weak points? Did they have a sewer? Or walls they can't defend? Could we scale them?"

"We don't even have wood for ladders," Ivar replied. "They locked me up the whole time I was there. I didn't have time to look around."

He tested my patience. As if our men couldn't stand on each other's shoulders and barrage them with arrows.  "They transported you to your cell, didn't they? You have eyes. Did you see anyone else while you were there?"

"No. There was just this other kid that was kept against his will. Father said—" Ivar looked away, filled with rage. 

I grasped his collar and pulled him close, knife against his throat. "I don't have time for your tantrums. Forget about your daddy issues for a moment and tell me about the kid."

Ivar's anger turned to me. He tried to get up, but I put a knee on his chest. "The kid was Athelstan's. Ragnar carried a cross around his neck and gave it to him before they carted him off. They tied me up when they brought me to Repton." He spat at me. 

The phlegm landed on my arm. I raised an eyebrow. "So you know nothing. Don't waste my time again." The knife lingered on his throat as I removed my knee. "Ivar the Boneless." I got up, out of reach from his hands, and spat in his face. 

Sigurd fell in beside me. We circled the group, my eyes flitting over to make a rough estimate of the number of people we had with us. "Do you even need it anymore?"

I glanced his way. "Need what?"

"The exit strategy." He'd known the answer to that the moment it had happened. 

I'd have to make a more exact estimate anyway; I turned to him. "I need to finish this count. Fetch Harald and Halfdan, we'll meet at the carts."  

Sigurd was too emotional. I couldn't trust him like this. He had better get a grip, or I'd have to put him in the vanguard with Ivar. Another group of fifty over there. Five, ten, fifteen times six; ninety. The men all slept in groups with people they knew. It made for an easy count. Those who had come with Bjorn formed a separate circle. They'd all wanted to find grass to lie on, instead of mud. Most of them had succeeded.

Some of the men who had set out with me had been swept up by Bjorn's force. We'd lost about three hundred men. That meant that somewhere between this waste and the camp, three hundred men had either died from poisoned water they'd brought, or roamed free between here and Repton. Would they grow so desperate they'd attack our base? Hmm. Not important for our survival.

Bjorn stared at me from a distance. If he had something to talk about, he could walk up to me and tell me to my face, instead of sneaking around my back. Ugh. Men. Why did we leave them in charge so often? All they did was strike out in anger and drag us all towards death.

I turned back to my count; this had to be done before the men woke up. Once they started moving it woud be too late. Another twenty, and fifty behind them. Were those eighty? No, closer to ninety. The numbers would even out, eventually. I continued my circle, keeping count on my fingers. The right hand counted the tens, pink finger serving as a quick fifty. With my left I kept track of the hundreds, and as I hit a thousand, I turned the hand facing up. Eyes on the field, the number grew steadily up to the point my left hand faced the grass again. Two thousand. 

"Ragnhild."

"Not now." My fingers stopped moving, freezing in place. "I'm counting."

"On your hands?"

My eyes remained focused on the shield that marked the end of the group I'd counted last. "Is what you have to say more important than our survival?"

"It's important for what comes after."

I didn't want to lose count on my fingers. Otherwise I'd have that knife in my hand by now. "Fuck off, Bjorn." My eyes darted to the next group. Forty. Right pink up, others on the right down. Thirty on the next. Thumb, index, and middle finger out. 

"What happened last night?"

Sixty more. Right all up, pink down. Left index up. 2140. 

"Why were you on the ground? I saw you crying."

I narrowed my eyes. Near the middle of the field, things got a little muddled. Eighty? No, I'd seen that half-burned shield before. Already counted them. The group more to the left was new. Thirty. Pink up, middle and ring down. Twenty more beside it. 2190.

"Answer me." Bjorn blocked my path.

I walked around him, eyes locked on the field. Was that thirty or forty? Even split. Last even split went up. This one down. Thirty. Right thumb and index stayed up; left middle finger up. 

Bjorn put his hand on my shoulder. My eyes froze in place. I'd have to recount that group. 

"Let go of me or I'll execute you for obstruction."

"Talk to me."

"I have nothing to say. Don't make me lower my fingers." I'd have to start all over to ensure an accurate count. 

He let go. "You said you'd never go back there." The warmth of his body betrayed his position. Was it worth it to drop my count and kill him?

"This is your fault. You never should've gone after Ecbert. Blame yourself for this and leave me alone. And never defy an order again." I'd gone soft on Ivar as well. The next to defy me would die. Fifty more. Twenty close by. Fiftee—twenty behind that group. 

Soon the count rose to the next five hundred. Bjorn still trailed me, but he kept quiet. He knew I was serious about my threats. Another man approached me, one of the guards from the carts. 

"Princess Ragnhild." My eye twitched. "The horses. Had to kill—"

"Get away," Bjorn warned as he rushed past me. "Don't interrupt her now."

"What about them?" I asked, fingers cramping from the unnatural poses. 

The man brushed off Bjorn, scowling, then turned to me with a smile. "We counted. Fifty."

"Hmm." Three quarters injured from the march. Acceptable. "Butcher them and load them up to the carts. They'll make a nice feast for after our victory." At best, it would keep the men busy. That meant fewer distractions for me. By the time Ecbert would find the carts, the meat would be mostly spoiled.

"Don't you want to sacrifice a few to the gods?"

I cocked my head. Right, the gods. "No." They'd get their sacrifice later today. 

"Okay…" The man glanced back, but didn't go against me. Bjorn stood by, keeping his distance. The moment my eyes flicked to him, he took a hasty step back. 

Thirty. Thirty. Twenty. Fifty. Forty? Sixty. Twenty. Ten? Why was there a group of ten? Where had their friends run off to? "Bjorn."

"Ragnhild?" He stood by me in an instant. "What is it?"

I kept my eyes on the men. "That group over there. Blue shields facing us. Find out if their friends have deserted our cause." I turned to the next group. Twenty. Thi—Bjorn blocked my sight. I took a deep breath and kept my fingers up. 

By the time I'd circled back to where I'd started my count, Ivar had crawled off. The mare that had brought him here was still asleep on the ground, muscles spasming. He'd pushed her too hard. That was the one mare that was trained to pull his cart. Ivar just might have to sit the battle out.

A surge of air filled my lungs. Divine justice. Fingers out, I returned to the cart. Left faced up again, all fingers but my pink stretched out. My right counted eighty. 

"Good news?" Halfdan asked as I joined them. 

Hvitserk climbed off the cart, wiping his hands on his pants to clean them. He'd prepared more packages? Good, that was useful. "What's he doing here?" He nodded towards Bjorn. 

"I'm still your superior." And yet, everyone looked at me, not him.

"Well?" I asked Bjorn.

"Those men you mean? They were asleep. Had no idea where their friends had gone off to."

I took a steadying breath. "And you believed that?" I dropped my fingers. 

"What else was I supposed to ask? They came with me to the Mediterranean. They are loyal to me."

My knuckled cracked. 

"I'll check it out," Halfdan said as blocked my clear path towards Bjorn. 

"No. I need you here. Hvitserk."

Halfdan kept blocking my path towards Bjorn, even as Hvitserk walked off. He inched closer, eyes trained on my hand. "Raining blood?"

"The villa. Does it have weaknesses?"

His eyes narrowed. "No. We'll have to take out their archers so we can hack that wall down. Gate's our best bet."

"Hmm." That would take a few minutes. "Why did Ubbe tell me it was three hours off, and not you?"

"I was explaining where to find you when the news broke."

Efficiency. Made sense. I'd trust him on the gate. I turned to Harald and Sigurd. "Three thousand, four hundred and eighty."

Harald grinned, his eyes lighting up. "So when do we leave?"

"Wait, what's the plan?" Bjorn asked. 

I slowly turned to face him. Why was he still here?

"I suggest you wait for us to finish," Sigurd told him. He clenched his fists, but still they shook. He should conserve his energy. It was too early to get angry. "You're not part of this."

"I'm still in charge of my part of the army. When we joined you, I took back control of the army. What's been going on here?" Bjorn spread his arms, anger poorly covering his confusion. This would take too long.

Sigurd's lip shook. He yanked at Bjorn's arm. "You killed her." A shimmer overtook his eyes. "That's not my auntie anymore. I don't know if we can ever bring her back, but before I can even try, I need you to stay the Hel away from us!" A fat tear rolled down his cheek. 

I glanced at Hvitserk. He almost reached the group. The more people shuffled around, the more woke up. We had to get the breakfast ready, with only one point to get food the line would be long. Were there guards to keep out an eye?

"And you all just allow her to act like this?" Bjorn asked. 

"She's how we survive," Halfdan snapped. "You think I like seeing her this way? Something changed since last night."

"He touched her." Sigurd pointed at Bjorn, eyes spitting fire. He really had to save his energy for the battlefield. 

Too emotional, the lot of them. Harald didn't seem too affected, though. "We need to get ready for breakfast," I told him.

"You what?" Halfdan clutched the hilt of his knife. "Ironside, is that true? Floki told you the rules, didn't he?"

I turned back to Harald. He enjoyed this too much. "Get men from at least three different earls." I nodded off to the sleeping army.

Harald took off without delay. The others ganged up on Bjorn, who turned red in the face. Pesky emotions. He felt cornered, and ashamed. Ragnar had been better at hiding his emotions behind anger. 

Halfdan dragged him off. angry whispered exchanged between them. It left me with a crying Sigurd. Fists clenched, eyes closed, he tried to hold it back. Some might've described it as awkward. 

I turned to Hvitserk. His sword was out. Good. I'd finally get some answers. 

"Your brother's an idiot," I sighed. "Most of them are."

Sigurd wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. "Auntie, please." He sobbed in my hair. 

Arms at my side, I craned my neck to keep an eye on Hvitserk. His sword was bloody. Good lad. 

Ginger hair tickled my face. I brushed it aside. Was he done yet?

"Don't leave me," he whispered. "Please, I need you. I love you. Mom…" My hair was stuck under his arm. I should've put it up in a braid, but it'd take too long. 

Rolling my eyes, I lifted an arm and patted him on the back three times. "There, there." Breakfast had to get going. If he didn't let go of me, I'd lose valuable time. 

"I need you to come back… Mom, please. I can't do this without you."

"Look, kid…" I remembered him, and how much he once meant to me. How I counted the cookies he took, and he'd try to sneak them past me. That he was the only one I let close after my child died in my womb. I just didn't care. "I need to get going. Don't embarrass me like this."

I hated when they were this emotional around me. Sucked the life right out of me. I pushed him off, then walked towards the horses. Hvitserk rushed by, ignoring my raised eyebrow. I knew they were too young to handle this. At the least I hoped that man hadn't butchered my horse with my bag still attached. Getting into a wet dress was so annoying. 


	60. Total Eclipse Of The Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-07-815

Our men formed tidy lines, a classic tight formation like the Romans had used. The tight space before the gates could only hold about twenty men abreast, a clever bottleneck that no one had warned me about. It made no matter. Opposite of us, between the army and the gate, Ecbert's army waited. Plenty of blood would run down my skin before the day was over. My own would join theirs soon enough.

My horse paced in front of the troops, going slow so I could look all the men in the eye. They weren't as rowdy as usual. Stillness governed the ranks, the soft clang of iron against wood gentle as a bird's call. I returned to the center, facing the men one last time. Behind me, an almost equal force stood. Well armored, also in formation, making more noise than us.

They shivered in their armor, waiting for me to bring them a swift death. It would come soon enough. This was what I lived for. 

The sky darkened. After all these days with good weather, now the clou—an eclipse? The moon shifted before the sun. It had already started, and had gone far enough to cast a shadow over the land. It deepened. 

I turned back to the men, smiling widely. It would be beautiful. They either gazed at the moon or stared at me in horror. Rising to my feet, knees sending my horse in the enemy's direction, I lifted my bow up high. No words were necessary. They all knew what this was about and what was at stake. 

"Ragnhild, wait." A horse cantered beside mine, its rider too large for the animal. "We can't fight in the dark. And you didn't sacrifice to the gods before, what are you doing?"

"You don't get it, do you?" Bjorn never would and never had. I pushed my horse onward. "I am the sacrifice."

"Ragnhild, you're insane."

Darkness overtook the land. My horse sped up, my bow high in the air, enemies trembling before me. The strips of my skirt fluttered after me. "Hya!" I would go towards a beautiful death, one that the skalds would sing about for centuries. It was here the gods intended for me to die. 

"Ragnhild!" 

Behind me, a storm broke loose. Angry shouts rang out, iron clashing against iron. I'd get to the enemy first. I had a head start, and I wouldn't give that up. My horse would ram through their defenses, throw them in disarray as the men followed me, breaking formation as the sons of Ragnar would lose their cool. They'd throw caution to the wind and thereby change the tactic the Saxons were now counting on. The chaos that would ensue would benefit us most. That was how we'd all survive. 

The child growing inside of me would never see the light of day. It had already served its purpose. The gods had used it to bring me here. So I could die for my people. They would remember me. My name would live on, next to Ragnar's. 

"Ragnhild!" 

The call barely registered. Eyes front and center, I focused on the men that would die from my horse crashing into them. Time to sow chaos.

I nocked an arrow, shooting off as soon as I'd pulled back. A shrill cry came from the left side of their army. The men around the hole in their ranks tried to move aside, causing a small ripple. A second ripple formed close by. The soldiers grew anxious. One shield rose, but a commander riding down the ranks yelled at his soldiers to keep formation. Two arrows were still off to their destination when I took aim at the commander. The moment his body fell, the thread of tension that held them in line broke.

The enemy forces cried out for God to restore the sky. To not desert them in their time of need. The left collapsed, soldiers breaking rank towards the side and the anxiety rippled through the others. With room to move and scatter, their soldiers slowly trickled away. Not fast enough for me to miss them. The first few lines remained intact. Enough was left for me to die on.

"Ragnar!" I shouted, firing off arrows as fast as I could take aim. "Ragnar!" I'd kill that son of a bitch. The moment I met him in Valhalla, I'd kill him. And the moment he came back to life, I'd kill him again. But first, this battle. 

As the darkness grew, so did the enemy's fear. They tried to scatter, but they were too slow. I reached their ranks. My horse jumped over the first row of men that valiantly held its position. From above, I got an arrow off. It hit a neck; the body sinking down as the horse trampled two men. This was it. Do and die. So much blood surrounding me already.

The horse barely kept its footing; corpses littered the ground. It whinnied, pranced up to its hind legs. One soldier got hit in the face. I grasped for the reins but missed and fell off, landing on my back. Beneath me, leather and iron and flesh cushioned the blow. So much for glory. The quivers strapped to the horse's harness emptied over me. 

One soldier leaned over me, eyes and nostrils wide. I grasped an arrow from mid-air and leaned up. Bow front, arrow to the stave, and it was off. The soldier grasped at the fletching that stuck out of his chest, but he couldn't pull it out before he slumped to the ground. 

More arrows waited to kill soldiers. I helped them find a target, whirling in all directions. The chaos grew worse as an axe flashed through my field of vision. They'd made it over before I had died. But how? I had to die before this could be a victory. 

A body landed on top of my scattered arrows. Grunting, I pulled him aside. I recognized the face. "Asshole," I hissed. I plunged an arrow into his throat with my bare hands. How dare he interfere with my work? Whoever would kill me, they had better do it fast. I wanted to at least have a chance at shooting them in the face, but as it was, they would have to hurry. I was almost out of arrows. That horse prancing had cost me at least half.

The few soldiers that had dared attack me got chased off by our own men. I snatched a handful of arrows and ran ahead. I had an appointment with death to get to.

Five arrows. I could get more from the corpses lying around. With the targets growing more scarce, I'd have to watch out.

"Ragnhild!"

My eyes crossed over. I missed my shot. "Look what you made me do!" Facing Bjorn, I pointed at the soldier who was still very much alive. He ran towards me but I didn't care. "You're nothing to me, you hear? Nothing!" 

Bjorn threw his axe in the soldier's face. "How dare you run off like that!"

I pulled back my string, arrow nocked. It aimed at his heart. I should've released the string back in March. This time I wouldn't hold. Not in the cover of near darkness. No one would blame me for this. And if they would find out, they couldn't try me when I was dead. Bjorn didn't even carry a shield. I released the string.

The arrow flew. It closed in on his heart. He swiped at it, but grunted all the same. Damn. His reflexes were better than most. The arrow stuck out of his shoulder, the same one that had gotten mauled by a bear, once. 

"You wanted my attention? Now you have it." I nocked another arrow. "You're a waste of space, Ironside. You should carry around a potted plant and apologize to it for wasting the oxygen it produces."

Bjorn tore out the arrow stuck in his flesh. Blood rushed out of the wound, staining his leather armor. "You still love me."

I lowered my bow. "What?" How dare he accuse me of feeling anything at all.

He took a step towards me. "If you didn't care about me like you say, then you would've killed me already."

Bullshit. I didn't give two shits about him. He was too close to catch it, now. That shitstain would never interfere with me or my life again. I took aim and let the arrow fly off. It was over, now. He'd never bother me again.

The arrow got blocked mid-air. A knife, from my right. Halfdan. 

I didn't have time for this. Only three arrows left and our enemies grew scarce. I'd deal with them later. Both of them.

Turning left, I chased after the battle. Our forces had passed me by like a whirlwind, leaving a path of corpses in their wake. In the darkness that ruled, I ran over the corpses and wounded, three arrows left in my hand. The moon blocked the sun completely, now. Two minutes of night. I should've waited a minute before trying to kill Bjorn. Halfdan's knife would've missed. Then we would've gone to Valhalla together, and I'd get to kill him and his father until the ends of time. 

The air smelled like victory. No, not yet. I had to die before that could happen. A soldier loomed ahead. I took aim, but before my arrow loosed, an axe found his jugular. Damnit. 

There, another one. Back of the neck, he fell down instantly. And people said I had no mercy. 

But I needed more. Another arrow loosed, catching a Saxon about to kill one of ours. Only one arrow left. I couldn't see any more on the battlefield. None that hadn't broken off. All the Saxons faced towards the villa, wounds on their backs. Cowards, all of them. Damnit, what was taking so long? I still had to die. 

My eyes scanned the battlefield. They found a man standing still in the center, a thick wolf's fur covering his clothes. Not a speck of dirt covered him. Blond hair and a scar on his cheek. He looked familiar. He waited for me.

I slowed down and approached him, arrows clutched in my hand. 

He watched me intently. "So this is what you've done?"

"Who are you?" The body underneath my feet still spasmed. A kick in their neck ended his suffering.

"You went too far."

I lifted my bow, arrow ready against my finger and the string. The other two arrows dangled beside it in my string hand. "Will you kill me?" I'd rather die with a weapon in my hands.

"No. Freyja isn't expecting you, yet." 

I scoffed. Of course she didn't. I lowered my bow again. "She needs me to do more of her dirty work for her?"

The man crossed his arms. "She's worried about you."

"Then she should've come here herself. Does she always boss you around like a dog?"

His anger flashed hot across his face, eyes turning white as ice. "You're standing on thin ice, Ragnhild. Don't make me kill you and send you back."

My eyes narrowed. "What do you know that I don't?" What did he mean? Back in time? To the future? The moment he'd tear me away from this time, I was as good as dead to my family. Wouldn't that be ironic?

He stood still in front of me. "They need you. Your boys."

"Everybody needs me," I spat. "The gods, the kingdom, they can get in line." Why would I even want to help them? I'd done enough for them to last me a lifetime.

His face closed in on mine. "They need you as you were. Don't make me regret this." 

"I'll do whatever I damn well—" 

His lips touched mine. It knocked the air from my lungs. I sank to my knees. What had he done? My head hung forward. My body. I couldn't move a muscle. The world turned on its side. All I saw was the battle ending. I lay in between the corpses of Saxon soldiers. The man had vanished.

Váli. It'd been him. He'd kissed me like that before. What had he done to me? Why couldn't I move? Even my eyes were frozen in place. No. This couldn't be. He'd locked me inside my own body. No. No, no, no! Curse him! Motherfucker! They would think I'd died! Burn me with the lot of them! How dare he!

I'd kill him! Even if they took me to Helheim, I'd crawl out of there and find him and kill him! He couldn't do this to me! The gods owed me!

The battle winded down as my fury dwindled. It was useless. Anger wouldn't get me out of this. It was a puzzle, some kind of trick. This wouldn't be the end of me. He'd said so himself. The boys needed me. There was a way to get out of this. I couldn't move my body because… Damnit, think! What had I not moved enough in? Or had I moved too much, with the march? Did I have to slow down, now? With what? My thoughts? I'd been calm when he'd kissed me. 

Oh, no… Fuck. He wanted me to feel again. The more I'd pushed down my emotions, the more it had felt like before. As if my mind had disconnected from my body. I'd retreated in there, and after Bjorn had touched me, I'd cut all ties. The ones that hurt, at least. The nuance was gone. The joy, the lingering sadness, the connection. Only the anger that damaged me remained.

Light slowly returned to the field. Cries from wounded men died out slowly as people made the rounds to kill the survivors. They'd find me, soon. Think I was weak. 

Never. I'd come here ready to sacrifice my life, I wouldn't let them think I was that pathetic. But to get up, I'd have to give in to weakness. I'd have to feel hurt.

Blasted gods. They wanted me to fix in a few moments what had taken me years the first time, and months after Kol had died. Hadn't I done enough impossible things for them already? Vicious fucking cunts.

I blinked. My eyes scattered around. Was it that easy? Kol had died. Thinking back to the feeling of him sliding out of me made me blink again. What else had hurt? Aslaug had betrayed me, then. Helga had been there to support me through it all, and Floki. If they saw me like this, they'd be worried sick. Did I care about them?

Not really. No. Sigurd, maybe? He'd cried his eyes out over me turning this distant. Nope. Nothing. I hope you come back and will still be my mother. Freydis, my little girl.

Nothing. But there had to be a way to get out of this. The gods were cruel, not stupid. Maybe my past? Harbard? No, that piece of shit still deserved to die. What did Váli want me to deal with? How I'd killed my father? Shoved a knife through his ribs? That had been something I'd loved to do. I should've made it hurt more.

A huff of air left my nostrils. My lungs? What was this? How was this connected? Because it was from the past? When was the last time it had bothered me that Tom had died? I tried to make a sound, but my vocal chords refused to function. Váli was the worst kisser ever. 

I'd dealt with Tom long ago. But apparently, my father still caused issues. How? He'd been a sadistic asshole. He'd made my life a living Hel. Did the gods expect me to forgive him? Fuck that shit. Some things were unforgivable. Bjorn knew all about that. Cheating, manipulative asshole. He'd forced me into this.

My fist clenched. My eyes shot down. The fingers moved. Bjorn. He'd forced me into extreme measures to save his fucking hide. He knew what he asked of me. And then he acted as if he hadn't seen this coming. My other hand clenched as well. I couldn't feel my toes, yet. Bjorn had hurt me. With how forceful he'd been about another child. His cheating, pretending I didn't know about it. He'd done it on purpose. He'd wanted to hurt me, and I'd spent hours awake, crying into my pillow to keep the children from hearing me. 

A wave of emotions burst to the surface. My lip shook. Bjorn had done this to me. He'd taken away everything. My future. The hope of growing old together. The joy I felt at seeing our children reach a new milestone. He wasn't there to share it with. He'd shattered my idea of how life would be, after showing me life was worth living at all. Tears welled up in my eyes. 

He'd betrayed me. For years on end. He'd known I still loved him, and yet he'd not wanted to end it. He'd never told me he didn't love me anymore. How could I ever trust him again? A sob tore through my body. I hid away behind my arms, curling up into a ball. As far as my legs would let me. I never wanted to see him again. I couldn't handle it. Not again.

Even before Freydis had been born, things hadn't been okay. Kol hadn't been the problem, either. Losing my little cabbage had exposed problems that we'd always had. Our relationship hadn't been between equals. As much as I loved him for helping me get that far, he'd made me dependent. 

I'd let him. Out of love, out of need, desire, lust, and that lingering fear that no one else would take that much time for me. That's when it all started. From there, Bjorn hadn't known what to do after Kol died. From there I feared telling him about my blood returning, then I pushed him away again when I was pregnant with Freydis. 

The gods were cruel. How could I face the army now? We still had to take the villa. I'd gone too far. I'd killed our own people. They were dead, because of me. Those thieves, the man who had come too close when the battle had started. He'd guarded the carts with me. And I'd killed him for falling in the chaos, like I had. Fuck…

"Ragnhild!"

Sigurd. 

I'd let him down. He'd cried his eyes out and I'd thought about killing him over it. I was a monster. I didn't deserve his love. I deserved to die here with my grief, lying on a pile of corpses. I'd failed to keep my promise to Freydis. I'd let everyone down. 

A howling breath entered my lungs. It hurt to breathe. I hadn't wanted this. But I'd let it happen all the same. For those I loved. I'd done it all for them, to the point I'd lost myself. Ever since Kol had died, I hadn't lived for me.  

"Auntie." Sigurd's arms lifted me up. His heaving sobs joined in with mine. 

"I'm so sorry," I cried. Clutching at his shirt, I let my tears fall. "I'm so sorry I hurt you." 

His fingers brushed over my hair. "You're back," he whispered. "Mom, you're back."

Hot tears trickled from his face to my ear. I swallowed, but the moment I smelled the blood and dirt on his clothes, mixing in with his scent, I lost it again. "You're alive…" My rasping breaths lashed at his chest. 

"I'm safe. You saved us all. We took the villa. Ecbert put all his men on the field, no one remained to defend the walls. It's over. It's done. You hear me? You saved us, like you said you would."

I pressed my eyes shut, but the tears kept falling. "I lied. I had no idea if we'd make it. I didn't want you to lose hope."

Sigurd hugged me tightly. "I knew. You were putting on a brave face, I knew. It's okay. It worked. Whatever you had to do, it worked. That's all that matters."

I leaned into him. My boy. Sigurd. Only sixteen and yet so wise. I'd put too much responsibility on his shoulders, and somehow he'd pulled through. On his own strength, not mine. "I'm sorry," I sobbed. 

"It's okay," he sighed, but his voice wavered. "I don't blame you." He took a deep breath. "I don't blame you for what happened. At all, you hear me? Bjorn shouldn't have touched you. I should've done more."

"No." I looked up. "Don't you dare blame yourself for this. If it hadn't been for you, I'd been lost days before." A spasm tore through my chest. My toes curled.

He rested his forehead against mine. "You protected me. You kept me safe. You did everything right. You hear me? Don't you dare blame yourself for this."

How could I ever get up again? Even though the darkness slowly faded, it weighed heavy on my heart. 

"Come on. It's okay. We just have to get up."

I shook my head. My breathing grew heavy again. "No. I can't."

"You can. You did it before."

"Hm—m." I'd shot Bjorn. He'd find out about—my hand shot to my stomach. 

Sigurd tore my hand away. "Don't. Not here, with people watching. We can check inside, okay? We need to get you inside. I know how strong you are, but right now, you don't have to be."

Though I shook my head, Sigurd got up. I clung to his arms, but he pulled me up with him. I shook in his hold. 

"Shh, it's okay. We made it. You got up. It's okay if you need help. I'm here. You're not alone anymore. I can only imagine how lonely you must've felt."

The exit plan. Those phrases I'd told him to repeat over and over were the first step. He shouldn't have to be responsible for my mental health. I should rely on myself, not on him or his brothers or anyone else. I could take a step. It was just one. One step. 

I moved my foot forward. It sank down, off the corpses. The wet grass underneath veered down. Blood wriggled in between my toes. I pulled a face. My weight shifted. One step. Then another.

"That's it. We can go slow. Take your time. Ecbert can wait." 

My eyes wandered ahead. Though the light was mostly back, the villa remained covered in gloom. A shiver ran down my spine. 


	61. The Pieces

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 01-07-815

In the courtyard, it was chaos. Sigurd supported me as we made our way through the crowd. Cries rose about how Ecbert was a coward, how Bjorn had caught him. I took a deep, wavering breath. I hadn't killed him. He was fine. 

"Ragnhild," a nearby man said. He poked at the chest of the man beside him. They fell silent. Stepped aside, even. 

The way Sigurd supported me, they must've thought someone injured me. I didn't mind them thinking so. It explained the tears streaking my face. It explained why I wouldn't come out to see people any time soon. Váli's trick had brought me out of the darkness, but this wasn't over, yet. The next few days I'd need to give everything a place before I'd do anything else. Step three of the exit plan. 

"Guys," one of them whispered. The silence spread, more and more faces turning towards us. 

I pulled Sigurd close. I almost tripped. 

Two hands reached out to support me. "Is it bad?"

"She just has to walk it off," Sigurd assured them. "Get someone to find her horse. Brown mare, freshly shoed."

Phoebe... Had she survived the slaughtering I'd ordered? I hadn't ridden her into battle. Fuck. How could I have done that to those poor horses? They'd helped us throughout the march. Without them we'd never gotten here so fast. What other carnage had I ordered?

"Where is she!" Floki's voice bounced off the walls. He pushed through the crowd. As soon as he reached us, he let his hands wander over my cheeks. "Are you feeling?"

Dread washed over me. "Floki," I sighed. Fuck. Fuck! "You have to send word to the camp at Repton. We lost three hundred men along the way; they could return there and attack." What if they'd commandeer a ship and go back on their own? Bjorn would—I'd have killed them. For all intents and purposes, they were as good as outlaws now. Anything less than their death would cause a riot.

His face paled. "Helga." For a second he stared deep into my eyes, before he turned around and bolted off, pushing back the way he came. 

"Auntie?"

My heart beat against my rib case as if to break free. "It will take us three days to get back there, the shape we're in."

"Us?" Sigurd grabbed hold of my hand, squeezing more than usual. It forced me to slow down.

"I figured it out this morning. I'm responsible." I glanced back towards the splintered gate. One axe lingered in the wood. 

"And she would tell you to take it easy. If she saw what you've been through..." He left the words unspoken. He was right. 

I had to rest. Who knew what my baby had gone through already? "I have to help," I insisted. 

"You've done enough for now.  All these men are alive because of you."

I did as he said. There were over a hundred men gathered here; the rest must've chased after the fleeing soldiers or ransacked the insides of the castle. So many were still standing. Barely anyone got hurt. 

"What happened?"

"They ran for the hills. Scared of the eclipse. Some put up a fight but once the first broke rank, they lost the battle."

I sighed in relief. The gods had done us a solid. None of the boys were hurt. Floki was fine. It was me that had gotten messed up again. Sigurd walked me to the entrance of the stone villla. By the door, Ubbe and Hvitserk waited, proud grins on their faces. 

"Auntie." Hvitserk pulled me close. He didn't have a scratch on him. 

"Oh, my sweet, sweet boy. You're alright."

"Can I say the same of you?" His eyes flitted towards Sigurd.

"I'm…" He'd want an explanation. "I'll tell you all about it, but first…"

"You want to see Ecbert?" Hvitserk stepped back so his brother could take over. 

I pulled Ubbe tight, thanking the gods he hadn't seen me at my worst. "All I want is to go home," I admitted. I couldn't give a rat's ass about Ecbert. "How bad is it inside? Is it too much to ask for a bed?"

"Everyone knows not to mess with the paper, so there's hardly anything to set fire to. I'm sure we can find a bed for you to sleep in. You deserve it." Ubbe let go, but I didn't follow. 

"Is…" What if I ran into Bjorn? Halfdan would want to talk, but all I wanted was to sleep. 

"I'll go find you a bedroom," Sigurd said. He dragged Hvitserk off with him as they went inside. 

"Auntie?" Ubbe guided me away from the door opening. I'd been blocking it. 

"Hmm?" I looked up. 

"Next time you want to lead the army, could you not try to kill them all before we reach them?"

I chuckled, but the memories of battle haunted me. They'd haunt me in my sleep tonight. I remembered how it felt. The bloodlust searing through my veins, but now it was all over I could only be revolted over having wanted that at all. 

"I'm serious," he said with a smile. "You made all of us look bad. Their whole force turned to chaos before you even got there."

"That was the eclipse," I muttered. 

Ubbe put his hand in my neck, blue eyes boring into mine. "It's really you again." His eyes shone in pure joy. "I wasn't sure if I believed it when Sigurd held you close, but you're back."

I pushed my face in Ubbe's shirt to hide my trembling lip. Freydis. I hadn't let her down. I'd come back and still be her mother. Ubbe knew me longer than anyone else. If he said I was back, he was right. 

"Come on. Let's go see about that room. Do you want us to keep him away?"

I nodded against his chest. "But—you should rest, too. I don't want you standing outside of my door or anything."

He guided me inside, the halls empty and cold. The villa was poorly lit. Those stone walls kept out all natural light. "We'll be fine. We've got to talk to Ecbert, first. Do you want to wash up?"

I glanced down at the bloodbath that was my dress. It was one big mess of pink and scarlet red. "I didn't realize it was this bad," I admitted. 

"You're one of the few who got bloody at all."

I huffed. "I was the only one to fall down."

"You fell? How?"

"Horse pranced. Landed on my back as soon as I passed their first line. And again when I-"

"Hmm?"

"When I…" I sighed. This would be a disaster. "It's a long story. For now, I want to wash up and feel human again."

Ubbe slung his arm around my shoulder. "Well, you did do awesome. I can imagine how the gods sent you here to help us through this."

I smiled faintly. His words didn't comfort me. It wasn't over yet, but at least I didn't have to worry about him until I woke up again. 

Hvitserk rounded a corner. "Ah, there you are. We found a clean room, Sigurd's getting it ready."

"Getting it ready?" I asked. 

"Yeah, removing crosses and stuff. It's no big deal. We want you to be comfortable."

Crucifixes were the least of my worries. "And will you boys be okay?"

Ubbe chuckled. "We're fine, I promise."

"Okay... Well, just remember to start collecting food and water as fast as you can. And Floki's headed back to the camp, there's about three hundred outlaws that could attack it. Give him all the help you can. And those—those horses…"

"We'll make sure we have food and drink, and that the camp will join us soon. Everything will be fine. Those outlaws won't attack the camp. They would be up against at least two hundred men, with defenses. They're starving. They won't have a Valkyrie to show them how it's done, or an eclipse to help them scatter the enemy. I'll talk to Floki." Ubbe pecked my cheek. 

I nodded, still unsure if I could leave them all be like this. "Okay…"

"I'll walk you to your room," Hvitserk said. He took my arm in his. 

I glanced back, but Ubbe was already on his way. "Are you sure—"

"Yes. Auntie, we've got this. I promise."

Had I still been in that… That state? What had happened to me? Thinking back, it was like a dream. As if I'd looked on while my body did and said things that were the opposite of what I'd have done. That part of me—wait, was that a part of me? 

I put a hand to my head. Whatever it was, it would've refused to believe Hvitserk. So I had to take him at his word. I never wanted to go back there again. 

Sigurd pulled on the bedsheets as we came in. His eyes lit up. "I'm just about done."

An enormous four-poster bed hogged one side of the room, while a fire roared opposite the door. To the right stood a few cabinets that almost reached the ceiling, a small table, and two chairs. A clean spot the shape of a cross graced the wall above the hearth. The room looked dark and dreary, but it was a bed. There was privacy between these cold walls. True privacy and silence, as I'd known them before I'd found my home.

"Thank you," I sighed. I sat down on a chair and stretched out against the backrest. "Do you know if there's some water to wash up with?" Ecbert must've had enough to keep his army fed for at least another week either here or close by. I prayed he hadn't had time to destroy his supplies.

"I'll get on it," Hvitserk said as he turned around. 

It was strange, having them all take care of me like this. Not unwelcome, but... Something I'd have to get used to. In a few days, things would go back to normal. I would be back to normal, or at least be well enough to fake it.

Sigurd closed the door and pulled up the other chair and sat down in front of me. "Did you bleed? Do you feel any cramps?"

I cocked my head. My hand slid to my stomach. It felt good. Calm.

"I asked Helga, back at camp. Signs to look out for. Did you?"

A wry smile came to my lips. "Just how much responsibility did you take?"

"You told me once, every great leader has a second in command that makes sure the leader can keep going. You were that to Bjorn for such a long time. I knew what you asked when you told me to stay at your side."

"You're only sixteen."

"And you're changing the subject. Did you feel any cramps?"

"No. It's… Fine? I don't know how, but…"

"You look calm. I thought I'd see some residual stress, but—"

I laughed out loud. "You sound like a healer. When did you get so wise?"

"I'm serious. Is there any reason I should be worried about that child? Or about you?"

"No. I'm fine. It's…" This child would be born. It would live, as would I. The realization slowly sank in. I'd been wrong about having to sacrifice us to the gods. 

"Something you don't want to talk about? Not now?"

I felt caught. "Don't you sass me like that. But if you insist, I got a visit. On the battlefield."

His face turned to shock. "What?"

I told him all about the encounter. The way I'd forced myself to accept Bjorn and I were over. That I'd have to let the hurt he'd caused me in slowly from here on out, everything. 

Sigurd ate it all up, close to tears that highlighted the pride in his eyes. He insisted on helping me clean my face and arms when Hvitserk returned with some water, and turned around as I cleaned the rest of my body. 

I slipped into a nightgown Sigurd had found in the cabinets and lay down on the bed. 

Sigurd sat down on the edge, brushing his finger over my face. "I still can't believe it. I thought you were gone."

"I was."

He didn't want to leave, yet. He'd tucked me in, but he couldn't let go yet. Neither could I.

I lifted the blanket. After a second of surprise, he took off his boots and belt, then got under the sheets with me. I hugged him closely from behind and softly brushed my fingers through his hair. 

"I'm so proud of you, Sigurd. Without you, we wouldn't have survived. I love you, my son."

He pulled my arm even closer. "I love you too, mom."


	62. Outlawed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 03-07-815

Sigurd came in with a cup of tea and more than a few cookies. As he put them on the table, I glanced up from my work. “More taxes?”

“Legislation.” I leaned back. The warmth of the fire at my back had kept me from getting very far. “It’s so boring.” The room was so cozy.

“Then why go through all of it?” He poured me a cup of tea. 

“Who knows what we find. Information is knowledge.” And also, it was a great way of avoiding Bjorn.

“You’re just avoiding Bjorn.”

I took the mug and scowled, but Sigurd noticed the smile I tried to hide.

First cookie. “You’re terrible at hiding how you feel.”

“In a few days I’ll be able to pull the wool over your eyes again.”

“Don’t count on it. I don’t think you have a lot of secrets for me anymore.”

I scoffed and took a cookie, too. “Is there anything in particular you want to talk about? About what you heard?”

“You still talk about it as if it wasn’t you.”

“Is that so strange? I hate what I had to do.” I raised my hand before he could open his mouth. “I know it had to be done, but I’d have preferred if it had been someone else. And I know you’ll say that no one else could’ve done it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. I got to know you better as well, Sigurd.”

He pulled a face and grabbed another cookie. “Ecbert’s been asking about you again.”

I rolled my eyes. “He can suck on Loki’s hairy ballsack. Seeing me is exactly what he wants. Whatever kind of weird fantasy he has about meeting me, he can keep it to himself.”

“I know. All I’m saying is that it would help to get him to talk.”

“About what? Why he killed Ragnar? Ecbert hated our guts, that much is clear from these documents.”

“He’s after farmland, like father wanted. Ivar’s not happy about that.”

“For once I agree. Just blood eagle the bastard and be done with it.”

“Auntie. As much as you resent Bjorn, he’s trying to improve the lives of all people in Scandinavia. How can you not support that wish?” 

Ragnar’s dream had cost us so much already, now it lay around the corner we might as well use this opportunity. All I wanted was to go back home, but this had to mean something, all this death and destruction. “In that case, tell him he needs a Christian priest to witness the signing.” I waved at the stack of papers packed at the edge of the table. “All the important documents say they are signed under the eye of God.”

“I’ll let him know. But, I mean, if you have a few minutes to spare in between the reading…”

“No. I’ve done more than enough for the army. And this is useful, I’m learning a lot about how Ecbert ruled these lands. Some of these things are actually quite clever, like that account of a new plow they developed. The first five years they used it their crop yield increased by fifty percent in weight. Not everything about ruling is glamorous or making the right decisions, Sigurd. Someone has to mind the numbers and do all of this legwork.”

“When was the last time you went outside?”

“I went to check on Phoebe this morning. Ran into Halfdan.” The mug had cooled down. I took a careful sip. 

Sigurd gave me a pointed look. He sneaked a third cookie.

It had been awkward as fuck. He hadn’t brought up the fact I’d shot Bjorn. Nor had I. “He looked well.”

“And?”

“He said he was glad to see me smile again.” He’d found me talking to Phoebe, apologizing once again to her as Sigurd wouldn’t hear it from me any longer. She’d pushed her head against my chest as if to chase off my apology as well. 

“So is he still planning to take over Kattegat?”

I looked away. I didn’t want to think about it. Right now I needed stability, not think about betrayals and hidden agendas. “I don’t know. We only said hi.”

“At least he’s keeping his men in check. Since Harald’s been off with Floki there’s been less… Incidents.”

Just the opening I needed. Something to latch onto, steer away from Bjorn, Halfdan and me meeting, and most of all away from Ecbert and my responsibilities. “And that tells you what, exactly?” 

“I don’t know,” Sigurd sighed. He picked up his fourth cookie. “That he’s got the respect of his men? He’s a good leader?”

“That Harald isn’t the sole reason for their success. Halfdan’s been a major contributor to his achievements. But he won’t blindly follow his brother like before.” Cracks had formed in their alliance. I reached out for another cookie, too. Eating helped settle my nerves. 

“How do you know?”

“During the march. He did whatever I asked without question. Halfdan knows how to put his people before his own ambitions. Their alliance is cracking.”

“Hmm.” 

“What is it?”

“Why would he then be glad to see you smiling again? Either you’re holding back information, or he has put his eggs in more than one basket.”

I glanced at Sigurd over the edge of my mug, sipping thoughtfully. More than friendship? He’d not given me any reason to think so. Over the past ten years he’d never given me any hint as to wanting to be romantic with anyone at all. “Hvitserk came by last night. Is he okay?”

Sigurd’s lips squeezed together as if he’d chewed on a lemon. “He’s fine. Just some guilt over wanting to do more and better.”

That sounded familiar. 

A horn sounded from outside. Sigurd and I stared at each other. Someone was at the gates.

Outside, people were eager to see who approached. The courtyard was packed, and more people kept on piling in. I walked to the front, then outside the gate. Harald and Bjarne walked upfront. They were back sooner than I'd thought. Either they'd moved faster than the march had, or they'd been on their way even before the battle had started. Did we have any ships left?

Helga. I took a deep, hampered breath. She was okay. Her radiant smile told me she hadn’t been worried for a second. I hadn’t killed her by mistake. “Helga!”

She pulled Tanaruz along. “Ragnhild! Look, it’s our friend!”

I met her halfway. “Helga,” I sighed as I fell into her arms. “Oh, you made it. I was so worried about you, Floki left as soon as we realized.”

“Why would you be worried about me? Floki told me what happened. How are you?” 

“I’m fine. We’re all fine. We survived.”

She pulled me even tighter. “She kept you safe. I sacrificed and prayed to Freyja, and she kept you safe. I knew she would.”

“I’ll tell you all about it, but first we have to get you some rest. We’ll catch up in a bit, I want to hear all about your adventures.” 

Sigurd already stood by to take Helga inside. She dragged off Tanaruz behind her, smiling and waving at all the familiar faces. Floki nodded and walked off to another friendly face.

I smiled at all the beautiful people who had survived. Sigurd was right; seeing the result of what I’d achieved helped lift my spirits. I walked back into the courtyard with them, trailing after Harald. He strutted around like a peacock, but immediately made time for me as I approached.

“You look a lot more pleasant,” he said. 

I met his hug without reservation, even though he stank from the journey. “Harald. Good to see you again.”

“How’s Ecbert doing?”

The smile froze on my lips. “Haven’t seen him yet. And I don’t intend to.”

Harald raised an eyebrow. “Alright.” We walked into the courtyard. Straight towards Bjorn. 

The blood ran away from my face. An edge of bandages peeked out from the neckline of his shirt. I didn’t dare look at his face. Tomorrow. I’d face him tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. This was already a big step. With the camp reaching the villa I had plenty of excuses to rush past him without further social obligations.

“We brought a gift!” Harald proclaimed. A circle formed so everyone could see him. “For the leader of our Great Heathen Army!”

I stopped dead in my tracks. What was Harald up to?

Bjorn moved forward through the crowd. He passed me by so close I could touch him.

“Ragnhild!”

Oh, fuck. I turned to face Harald, Bjorn’s back tense where the bandages ran. I’d hurt him badly. And now Harald threw even more oil onto the fire. 

“The Valkyrie had led us through the Scorched Earth! She told us time and time again, we live and die together!”

I closed my hands into fists to hide their shaking. Around me, the crowd booed the men who were brought into the courtyard, bound by their hands as if they were slaves. The runaways. Or at least a handful. 

“These cowards feared death!” More booing. “They left the march in the dead of night! Thinking they would get away with cowardice!”

One step at a time. Right foot forward. Then my left. A third put me next to Bjorn. A fourth would bruise his ego. A fifth would mean claiming the title as leader. Would he make a move against me?

No. Fuck that shit. Had I not led us through the wasteland? Had Bjorn not been at his wit’s end? Did I not deserve their praise? Some good had to come from this. For the army, for our people, and for me. 

Bjorn’s fingers brushed past mine. I took another step forward. And a fifth, and a sixth. 

Harald stared at us hungrily. He’d gotten what he wanted. Arm outstretched, sliding towards my shoulder as I stepped in beside him, he guided me to stand in front of the deserters. 

They were silent. They didn’t care about political games and petty power struggle. In their hearts, they knew how wrong they were. That their fate as cowards was sealed. Now they were caught, they would welcome a quick, clean death. 

I raised a hand. The cries died down. “Before me stand the greatest cowards our people have ever known!” A thunderous roar overtook the crowd again. As my eyes slid over the onlookers, I remembered how Ragnar had done his public executions. These men respected me as if I were a queen. One that didn't need a husband to rule.

No wonder Harald thought I was a threat. Whatever worries he had, they were unfounded. The day we would leave for Kattegat could not come soon enough. But until then I had a part to play. “These men refused to fight! They did not bare iron against Ecbert’s forces! And in doing so, they refused to honor the gods!”

Harald held out his scabbard, eyes gleaming as the crowd pushed closer. Bjorn’s eyes bored into the back of my skull. He’d never seen me kill before. Not with a sword, this up close. 

What did the courtyard expect of me? That I’d slice open their bellies? Let them have their turn afterward? Some flashy move that killed over ten people with one fell swoop? It was too late to refuse, now. I’d have to deal with this my way. What would I do if the crowd wasn’t a factor? Would I understand their fear? Had I not thought about running away from the march in a moment of weakness? Then again, I hadn't acted on it.

I ignored Harald’s sword. “These men don’t deserve bared iron in return. Nor did I suffer alone from their cowardice. They left us all to die, so that is what we will do to them. Untie them!”

A few of the men fell to their knees, thanking me for their mercy. I barely heard them over the jeering crowd. 

“What?” Harald asked. “They deserted us! These are cowards that should die!”

“Untie them, now. Am I not the leader?”

He grunted, but did as I said. I watched on as the rope fell to the ground, then guided them all towards the gate. Their lives were forfeit either way. Not doing a thing would only weaken my position, and those men would fall prey to accidents and out-right murder regardless of any attempts to save their lives. With the cowards outside of the gates, and only me keeping the men back, the divide was clear as day. One of the men looked back as they walked off, terror in his eyes. Just a lad, no older than the boys. No supplies, all weapons taken from them. No one would allow them to sail back with them. They’d never see Scandinavia again. 

“I suggest you run!” I called out to them. 

The boy’s ears perked up. He nudged the others, who grew nervous, too. They picked up their pace.

“Ragnhild? Why did you let them go?”

I spun on my heel. “Did I do such a thing? My words were clear; we will leave them here to die. No iron may ease their path. Those men are given to the forest.”

A second passed. Then another. One man stepped past me, still worried I’d call him back. Or worse. When I kept silent, two more followed. The first few trickled out of the courtyard, but then they streamed out, all running after the outlaws. 

Anyone who desired to do so was free to kill them without consequences. If they survived for three years out in the woods, they could return. I doubted they’d survive three hours. It wasn’t my direct decision to kill them. The crowd got what they wanted. I had put Harald in his place, and Bjorn knew just what he had turned me into. Half the yard removed from me, he stood still as stone. Our eyes met. Off in the distance, the sounds of a human torn apart by wild animals pierced the air. 

One step at a time. No one could touch me. I was in charge. This was my army, and Bjorn could pry it from my cold, dead hands. 

Too soon I was close enough to hear him breathe. 

“Is this what it cost you?” He didn’t show any sign of weakness. How could he expect me to be vulnerable in return?

“As always you gave me no choice.”

He lowered his eyes and headed for the stables. With him gone, I was alone. Bjorn deserved to feel hurt for once. I’d done everything he’d asked and more. I’d been willing to sacrifice my own life for our people. Whatever he would sacrifice or achieve, it would never measure up. Life wasn’t a competition, but I was winning.

Someone cleared their throat behind me. Halfdan. 

“I err… Didn’t feel like running.” He nodded towards the gate. “Are you sure you’re… Normal again?”

The thought of blood spilling over my hands didn’t turn me on anymore. “Some parts are. But I don’t think I’ll ever be the same again. Shouldn’t you be plotting with your brother?”

Halfdan sighed. “He’s still not over Sif. Wouldn’t take it personally.” His eyes lingered on the big doors heading inside the villa. 

He seemed sympathetic towards me. Now was a good time to bring it up. “You heard me talk to Bjorn?”

“You hurt him. In more ways than one.”

“I saw the bandage. He can’t lift his arm, can he?”

Halfdan shook his head. “Barely. You hit him good.”

“He pulled out the arrow,” I snapped. I shook my head and sighed. Halfdan wasn’t my enemy. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take this out on you.” Residuals, that was all. This wasn’t really me, lashing out. But had declaring those men outlaws been a leftover as well? Or was that the new me? The cries were unpleasant, but I didn’t feel sorry for them. Those men had feared death so I’d given it to them. They had not risked fighting in the battle we would not likely win, and thus I had forbidden the use of iron against them. That felt like justice to my heart, though it was cruel in my mind.

Exactly why I had kept to my room the past days. Everything I had thought to know and feel and think had shifted.

“The gods were with him. That old scar he got from a bear? The skin had gone hard because he burned it so poorly. It kept your arrow from going in too deep.”

“Are you calling me a lousy shot?” I smiled faintly. 

Halfdan didn’t return the gesture. He took a step forward, his face serious. He hardly ever looked like this. It intimidated me more than his maniacal grin. “Should I have let you kill him?”

I closed my eyes. I didn’t know. The kids hated their father. That would fester, especially after they heard about what had happened here. They would find out eventually, and it was time they learned about what it meant to rule a kingdom. I’d have to stop coddling them. But he was still their father. His only crime had been hurting me, and I had let him. “I—”

“Auntie!” Hvitserk’s cry echoed out into the empty yard. Dread washed over me. “Auntie, come quick!” He burst through the door, his face a mess of confusion and fear. 

I ran towards him, heart pounding in my throat. “What happened!”

“It’s Helga! She’s hurt!” Hvitserk turned around and ran in front of me, shouting at people to get out of the way. 

“What happened!”

“The girl!” Girl? What girl? “She killed herself after!”

Tanaruz. She’d grown impatient. I should’ve told her. About what Floki wanted to do, take her back home. I’d promised Helga I would, but I’d never gotten around to it. Fuck! I should’ve done as I’d promised her, back when I still had the chance. Now she could die, because I’d been focused on other things. I’d taken her for granted, and all she’d done was support me.

“She’s bleeding! Auntie, you have to save her!”

Floki’s wails echoed through the corridor. A row of people blocked the sight of him. Sigurd waited for us to reach them, his face a blur of disillusion and remorse. 

Helga. No, this couldn’t be. The corridor stretched out before my eyes, Floki’s wails burning into my mind. Was that blood on the floor? Was it hers?

Helga stared up at the ceiling, clutching her stomach. It was but one of many wounds.  Floki cried his heart out, holding onto her hand as he held her tight. His hands were covered in her blood.

She’d died. Her eyes had glazed over. Floki knew how to check for signs of life. If there had been anything he could’ve tried…

“Auntie, do something.” Hvitserk pulled on my arm. “You can save her, right?”

I closed my eyes. The gods were cruel. Fucked up, calculating, and they’d seen this coming. Yet they hadn’t kept it from happening. “Not this time,” I whispered. I pushed a few men aside and sank to my knees next to Floki. As much as I wanted to press Helga close and feel her warmth before it faded, it was his right to mourn her most. All I could do was be there for him, despite the tears fighting to come out. 

But I had to try. “Floki…” I placed a hand on his shoulder. 

The kohl streaked over his cheeks as his tears crashed down his face. He rested his head against my arm. Another bloodcurdling cry rose from his lips. Words failed me. Nothing had prepared me for what to tell my oldest friend. All the phrases that came to mind rang hollow. Nothing would ever make this right. 

It hadn’t been her time, yet. Helga hadn’t deserved to die like this, in a dark, damp hallway. Just a minute ago she had stood by my side, that bright smile on her face. Now a knife stuck out of her ribs. Tanaruz had pierced her heart. How had she even gotten her hands on one?

It didn’t matter. “Sigurd,” I whispered. “Get these people out of here. Hvitserk, get rid of the other one.” I refused to call her by her name. She’d had no reason to kill Helga, and yet she had killed herself after. Why free herself from Helga’s grasp only to kill herself right after? 

The corridor slowly cleared as Hvitserk sent everyone off. Floki cradled her in his arms, his caresses tangling up her hair. But I couldn’t touch her. Floki’s grief came first. So I clung to Floki, instead.

“How could the gods do this?” Floki asked. “They touched you, and here she is. Why her?”

I didn’t understand. “They’re vicious cunts.”

“But they touched you! Why is it they touched you, and not Helga? How could they not love Helga the same as you?” Floki shook in anger as his tears dropped on Helga’s face. 

“Váli visited me,” I admitted. “During the battle. He didn’t mention a thing about this. I swear to you, if I’d known…”

Floki wailed and banged his head against the wall. “Then why would they take my Helga!”

I took a deep breath. “I don’t think they had anything to do with it.”

He smacked away my hand. “Lies! Did I not do as you said! Did I not leave her behind, did I not sacrifice what I could to them!” His shaking hand touched her face. It broke my heart to see him like this. “Helga…”

“If—if there’s anything I can do…”

“Wake up, Helga. My love, please wake up. The gods can’t take you away from me, not like this.” His sobs overtook his voice. 

The hall was cleared, save for the boys and Halfdan. They didn’t know what to do, and neither did I. What kind of funeral would Helga need? Her body had to be washed, but Floki did not intend on letting go of her any time soon. Was it better to have him decide? All I knew was that they did things differently during raids. 

“This is my fault,” Floki whispered. He aged before my eyes. “I did not love the gods as I once did. I hesitated, and so they took away that which I loved most.”

“No, don’t think like that. Floki, this is not your fault.”

“It is... I should have loved her better. Like I should have loved the gods better.”

“What do you want to do?” Maybe sitting here for a while longer was good. But Helga would—her body would grow cold, soon. 

“I must give myself to the gods. Surrender to their mercy, and beg them to let me into Valhalla. That is the only way I will ever see her again.”

This must have been the grief talking. “Whatever you need, Floki. I’ll ask the gods to watch over her.” 

The Seer had been right, all along. I’d lose someone I loved. I’d find what I wanted, but not what I needed. And my sons were safe. I’d stayed by their side, with help from the gods. But how had he known? How had our gods known to whisper in his ears about a Muslim girl?


	63. Hidden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04-07-815

Floki had wanted no one near Helga’s funeral. With pain in my heart I looked out over the grave he’d dug below a lonely oak for her from atop the walls. Ivar looked on from the gates, sat on the ground, but the others didn’t even show their faces. I wasn’t sure if that meant they respected his wishes or didn’t care. It felt wrong either way.

After he buried Helga, Floki departed to find wood that was in a good enough shape to build a boat from. This one would only be large enough for one. I accepted his wishes, even as he rode south by himself to search out trees. Not far from here the scorched earth stopped.

Ivar already sat next to her grave when I got down. “I warned her. And Floki. That girl was nothing but trouble.”

The freshly dug up earth gave off a musky scent. It had rained again last night.

“That girl was scared and alone, torn from her family and everything she had. She had every right to be afraid.”

“Are you defending her?” He stared at me as if I were crazy. 

“I stood in her shoes at one point. All I’m saying is that I understand her. It’s easy to judge from the sidelines, you have no idea how hard it is to adapt to a world you know nothing of. Helga was one of my best friends, but what she did to that girl was wrong. Everyone knew.” And I had let it happen, too.

“How dare you blame her for this? It should’ve been you.” 

If that was the worst he could think of… I’d thought worse things about myself in the past few days. “And yet, the gods saw fit to have me survive storming into an enemy army by myself. If I recall correctly, that’s much like how the gods gave you a chance to prove yourself. Had the gods decided differently, both of us wouldn’t be here now.” That’s what Sigurd had told me to tell myself, when it got to be too much. Ivar could use a little of that truth, too.

Without a word, face contorted in anger, he crawled off. The rain had formed muddy pools right before the gate, but Ivar went straight through them. 

“What will I do with him, Helga? He’s so lost. Just look at him, he came out to see Floki bury you. He does have a heart, and it’s in the right place but he is so troubled. You could’ve talked to him, maybe make him see that he is in fact very much loved. But it’s so hard to love him when he acts like a spoiled brat. Aslaug loved him more than I ever did, but it wasn’t enough. I told you, not every parent is fit for the child they get. She tried, I do believe that, but she shouldn’t have kept him away from the rest of the world.” A deep sigh came from the depths of my toes. For the first time I felt how old I was. Almost forty. An eternity had passed, with so much achieved, and yet it all rang hollow sitting beside the mound of earth covering my friend. Most my life was over now, by far. Would this child be an adult before I died?

“I failed you, too. Should I have done more? Or less? You always wanted another child. Perhaps if you’d known I was pregnant before you left, then you could’ve doted on this child instead. Is that selfish? I don’t know anymore. I want to talk to you so badly. After all that happened, I need a friend who will not judge me. How long have we known each other? How often did I ask for your advice? You and Floki supported me the same way I tried to support Bjorn, even through all our issues.”

I drew a rune in the sand. Protection. “You’d want me to protect him. But how do I keep him safe when he wants to be with you? He’s convinced you made it to Valhalla, somehow. And I really hope that you do make it up there. That you fought, that it was a battle. I don’t know if he told you, but he wants to go off to unknown lands on this boat he probably can’t find enough wood for. Said he wants to give himself to the gods. How can I protect him when he’s out at sea? Don’t tell me that I have to pray to the gods for that, they’re not exactly reliable. Fuck, can I even say that after I met Váli again?”

A few of Halfdan’s scouts rode past, laughing as they cracked jokes about how bad Saxons were at fighting. The puddles splashed up as they rode through. “I never got to tell you. The gods are real. I saw one of them during the battle. Váli kissed me. Not in a romantic way, just... It was weird. When our lips touched, I couldn’t move. And by the time Sigurd found me I had found my way back. You would’ve been so worried if you’d seen what I had become. But ever since he came by and told me the boys will need me by their side, I haven’t felt at ease. Something’s coming, and it won’t be good. It’s like he took something from me. Maybe that’s just how the gods work. He took something bad away from me, and with that he also had to take something good. Or perhaps I’m just overthinking this. You always said that’s my biggest talent. That and worrying over the boys and my children.”

A gentle breeze that tousled my hair reminded me of Helga. It was almost as if she heard me. “The world didn’t deserve you. I know your anger against Aslaug faded. And still you kept on hating her alongside me, as if the wounds were as fresh to you as they were to me. I think that was the only time you ever judged anyone.”

She’d miss so much. Siggy and Freydis would have their ceremonies when they first bled; she’d looked forward to that for years. After Angrboda died, she’d doted on the girls even more than before. The birth of this child would happen without her. Helga had been there for all of them. If it did go wrong, who would pick me up again? 

This wasn’t helping. The baby needed to rest, not get even more stressed because I was freaking out. “I have to go now, I think. I don’t want to let you go, but… They need me. I need to be strong, and somehow that means I can’t hold on to you. But I’ll try, okay? When I get home, I’ll go up to Athelstan’s grave and take care of his resting place. And I’ll bring some of your things and bury those alongside them. So you won’t be alone, and I can come and talk to you when I have to. I’ll bring the girls over too, okay? They will miss you so much. Gods, how am I ever going to break the news to them? You’re family. No, you’re right. They’ll take this better than me. They’re more Viking than I’ll ever be. I’m sorry. I’ll try to be strong, in my own way.” 

I rose to my feet and clapped the dirt off my dress. Should I say goodbye? Or did she understand? I had to get back inside; the boys had to know Floki would leave. I’d already put it off for too long. It was close to dinnertime anyway, and it had been weeks since we’d had a family dinner. Now was as good a time as any.

The kitchen rang loud with gossip about Ecbert. One woman claimed that he’d offered huge swaths of land, but that Bjorn thought it wasn’t enough. Ecbert had tried to kill Bjorn but failed; it explained the wound on his shoulder. He had committed suicide in his bathhouse. No one dared ask me what I thought, but their glances were too conspicuous by far. 

From what Sigurd had told me, Ecbert wasn’t giving in, no matter the threats Bjorn made. He was fucking up our victory by stretching this out for so long. And now I was heading for the throne room anyway, carrying a tray with four plates with me. The boys had been in there drinking most of the day, I’d been told. 

Their voices carried through the door to the throne room, where two guards flanked the entrance. 

“Would you mind getting the door for me?” I asked as I lifted the tray up an inch. 

The guards stared at me, then at each other. “We err—you haven’t come by before.”

What was going on here? “Because there was no reason to. I just need to get some food to the boys. I can hear them shouting. Why won’t you open the door for me?”

The left one cleared his throat. “You’re not allowed in here, ma’am.” Ma’am? 

“Says who? Don’t you think someone would have told me if I couldn’t go in there?”

“Take it up with Ironside,” the right one answered. 

I shivered. The plates on the tray tapped against each other. “Did he forbid me from feeding his brothers?”

“No, but—”

“Did he forbid me from sharing bad news with them?”

“Ma’am, please stay calm,” lefty said. 

“Stop calling me that. I am calm, I just don’t understand. Why can’t I go in? Am I not still the leader of this army?” 

“It’s—”

“We’re not supposed to say, but it’s for your own safety. Ironside was adamant.”

That fucking hypocritical bastard. I’d get him for this. I’d been so clear I wanted nothing to do with Ecbert, and now this? Fuck him and his little power trip. This was about Harald calling me out as the leader and me leaving him in the dirt.

I shifted my weight to one hip. “And what danger do you expect me to find in there? Will the sons of Ragnar attack me in their hunger? No, you listen to me, now.” My voice dropped to a hiss. “I have the worst news to tell them since Ragnar died, and you will not keep me from taking care of my boys. We need privacy, they need food, and that’s all you need to know. Now let me through, or I’ll curse both of you to Helheim.”

They started to crack, but they held on better than I imagined. “Ironside would have us hanged.”

I raised an eyebrow. Everyone knew about the outlaws. Everyone knew that had been me, and that I had not relinquished my role as the leader. “Don’t make me put down this tray.”

They shared a glance, then the left one opened the door for me. 

“Was that so hard? I’ll be out before he ever notices.” I pushed the door open further, welcomed by the shouts of three drunk boys. Ecbert dangled in a cage at the other end of the throne room, apparently still alive. 

“Food!” Hvitserk jumped up to grab a plate off the tray, but I kept it away from his eager fingers.

“Sit down, I’ve made it this far.”

Ecbert stirred in his cage, the creaking of rusted iron making me wish for some proper grease. I put the tray on the table and shared around the plates. “I have something to tell you, so please calm down a bit.” I put a hand on Sigurd’s arm. 

His pupils reacted slowly. “Auntie? What is it? I thought you didn’t want to come in here.” 

“I’m not here for Ecbert, but for you three. There’s something you need to know.”

A booming voice scared the daylight out of me. “Who is that! I told you, I only speak to the Valkyrie!”

I froze in place. The boys stared at me, their spoons slowly dropping to their plates. That voice… It sounded so familiar. 

“What is it?” Sigurd asked. He put a hand on mine.

I snapped back to the present. I’d tell the boys the news and get out again. The boys were old enough to deal with bad news. “It’s Floki. He went south to—”

“Hidden? Hidden!” Ecbert scrambled in his cage, clutching the bars of the cage in which he hung. Did the word fela mean anything different in English? I didn’t recognize it. And I didn’t care.

Annoyed, I got to my feet. “Do you mind?” 

He laughed, cackling as if he were free and still in charge. “Oh, you’re not hidden anymore, are you?”

Since when did Ecbert speak Norse? And why that one word? Something told me to be wary. Another part of me screamed at me to run. “What does fela mean to you?” 

“What’s Floki doing South?” Hvitserk asked, his eyes sloshing from Ecbert to me and back. 

Ecbert chuckled. “Oh, no, you misunderstand. What does fela mean to you?” 

Sigurd put a hand on my arm before I could reply. “Auntie...” He looked unsettled. This close after the march, and then Helga’s death, it was too much. This news would hurt him so badly.

Ubbe bumped an elbow into his brother. “Hvitserk?” he asked. “Do you remember? That day we almost drowned? Fela?” He stood up and faced Ecbert.

I sat down again, trying to make sense of it all. Had Ivar already told them? Or was this about something else? Ecbert was ruining everything.

Hvitserk joined Ubbe as he stood up, standing between me and Ecbert. “Someone else asked us about Fela once. It’s a name.”

“One that I heard before, as well,” Sigurd said. He grew pale but got up all the same, one arm outstretched to keep me back. 

They didn’t speak English well enough to understand Ecbert. What was this about? “Boys? What’s going on? It’s just a word. Ecbert’s just trying to get into your heads. Please, sit down and eat something. You’re drunk.” 

“It’s a name,” Hvitserk repeated in a murmur. “Harbard asked us if we heard about someone called Fela. After that came more names, but that one I remember.”

Harbard... My brother. Jozef had told a story about a girl named Fela. Sigurd’s expression told me he understood what they were talking about. “Harbard died over a decade ago. You were too young to remember. Please, boys.” I reached out a hand to Sigurd. 

“Maria, tell me you remember! Remember Fela!” Ecbert tried to wrest free from the cage, as if he could break down the thick iron bars. The cage swung in the darkness of the other side of the throne room. 

Ubbe threw his horn against the king’s cage. “Do not speak that name!” he shouted. “It doesn’t mean what you think it means!”

I had to get out. My head hurt, and the boys were too drunk to think straight. A voice kept ringing in my head, telling me I’d never amount to anything. We weren’t on the march anymore. I could stop thinking back to those thoughts. I’d grown past them. I had healed. That man was not my fa-

The blood drained from my face. 

“Fela! Let me out of here, I have to—Fela!” 

A trance took hold over me. Step by step I drew closer. 

“Auntie, no!” Sigurd tried to hold me back, but I slapped at his hand.

 There was something... Names ending in -a were meant for women, in this part of the world. I was the only woman in sight.

“Does he think I’m Fela?” I asked as I got to my feet. 

Sigurd grasped at my dress. The desperation in his eyes reminded me of when I’d fallen apart in his arms, back when he was only six years old. When Kol had still been inside of me, and I’d tried to get away from Aslaug. When he’d hugged me close, crying his eyes out while I was unable to care. He was terrified of losing me.

“Took you long enough to find me,” Ecbert said. He clung to the bars that separated us, trying to get closer. As the light of the nearby torches hit his face, I stopped. 

Everything stopped. 

There were only his eyes. Those haunting blue eyes that had kept me from sleeping soundly for years.

The eyes that had made me want to kill myself. The eyes that still made me want to tear out the veins in my wrists and bite through them with my teeth, if only to get away from him for good. 

My sight grew foggy. I breathed, and he was still in his cage. Otherwise I’d be dead already. That was a fact. It ricocheted in my skull, clogging any comprehensive thought. I was breathing. He was locked in a cage; he couldn’t come out. I was alive.

I blinked. It hurt my dried-out staring eyes. I whimpered as a tear roll down, my sweaty fingers digging into my dress. My clothes felt too heavy. My skin itched where my hair touched it, but I couldn’t raise my hand to move it out of the way. It only got worse until my entire body was a raw nerve.

All the strength left my legs. Something kept me from hitting the floor. I had to get out. I needed to run; it didn’t matter where to. If he got out of that cage, he would kill me. I still breathed, but for how long?

“Ragnhild. It’s okay. I’m here. Come on, sit down. Focus on my voice. I’m here for you.”

Underneath my grasp, the sturdy feel of bandages confused me even more. My eyes locked on the door. Safety. Through that door, but I’d have to move my legs. I couldn’t feel them. I couldn’t feel a thing. “I—I have to…” Where could I go? Where would I be safe, if he’d found me here? 

The gods wouldn’t have brought him back here. Then had it been his that got me here? It explained how Jozef had made it to this time. He’d found me, too. Was God behind all of this?

It was him.

“Shh, it’s okay. Take a deep breath.” Two strong arms held me down. Were they his?

I slapped them away, nauseated by the thought. What if they were his? What if he’d gotten out? He’d kill me. Those eyes would kill me.

“What’s wrong with Auntie?” Hvitserk asked. “Does she know this Fela?” 

In the background, he laughed. I clawed at the arms that held me back. They belonged to a giant. “No…” He’d come for me. He’d kill me. Nowhere was safe. “No, let me go. I can’t be here. Please, let me go.” It had been him to scorch the earth. He’d known it was me coming. He’d tried to kill me for days, and now—

“Let go of her. Now. Whatever’s happening to her, you’re making it worse.” Sigurd? Was that his voice? Why was he near that monster? My sweet baby boy would get hurt. I had to save him. 

“If I do that, she’ll hurt herself. I warned you, all of you, that she couldn’t go near him.”

The calmness of their voices only grew my panic. I whimpered at his echoing voice, bouncing off the walls to find me no matter how I twisted and turned in a tight grip. Bandages, on his shoulder. The giant was hurt. I could fight him.

“Maria, you know better than to defy me! That blond whore was just the beginning!”

A wash of red hair pulled me close. Sigurd. No, why did he not run? “You don’t get to decide what’s good for her. Not anymore.” 

“This is not the time, Sigurd.” The giant jerked me back into his grasp. Why didn’t he let me run? Sigurd and me, we had to run. I couldn’t lose him, not my sweet little boy. 

“Because he’s her father.”

I screamed. My throat hurt from the force. A lucky jerk broke free one of my hands, then I punched the giant in his shoulder. His grasp on my other arm tightened. “No! He’s not, it can’t be! Liar! He’s dead, I killed him! I killed him!” I’d kill him again! Right after I broke free from this asshole.

“Ah, you remember me. Such a touching display of affection. Won’t you come and say hello?”

“Ubbe, shut him up. What was she doing here in the first place? Ragnhild, listen to me. Hey, listen. He’s locked up, you hear? He won’t hurt you.” He grabbed hold of my hands to keep from lashing out again.

How could anyone promise me that? The giant didn’t realize who he was up against. He couldn’t—his hand. 

I recognized that ring. That was Bjorn’s. His wedding ring. What was he doing here? Why did he hold me like this?

“Bjorn…”

“You can’t keep her from me any longer!” Ecbert shouted.

Bjorn grunted. “Damn those guards. I’ll hang them for this. Hvitserk, take her to her room.” 

My fingers dug into his shirt, my wet cheeks begging for his chest to lean into. “N-no, don’t go. Don’t leave me, not now.” Only he knew how dangerous my father was. What he’d done to me, how badly it had wounded me. He’d tried to keep me safe. 

“You won’t ever have to see him again. I’ll make sure of that. The boys will take care of you, alright? You can trust them.” He tried to tear away my hands. 

“No, don’t leave me. Bjorn. I can’t do this. Please, we have to go, now we still can.”

“Auntie, it’s okay,” Hvitserk whispered. “Hold on to me. I’ll get you out of here.”

Bjorn pressed on my wrists, forcing me to let go of him. He moved my hands to Hvitserk, where I clung to his shirt instead. I threw back a look, but all I saw were my father’s eyes. Blue, piercing, ready to strike me down at sight. 

Hvitserk helped me back to my room, slow as it was. I held a hand to the wall as I walked, almost taking a wrong turn as the wall took a left where I should’ve gone right. Hvitserk caught the mistake. I was numb, destroyed, and still I couldn’t believe what my own eyes had shown me. My father was still alive.

“Auntie?”

“Fine, I’m good, all good, it’s fine.”

“Is he really your father?”

A pitiful whine escaped my lungs. Hvitserk carried me to my room, walking slowly as he whispered apologies in my ear. I clung to him with all the strength I had left. This had to be a dream. All of it. That couldn’t have been my father. If that was him, we were all in danger.


	64. The Itch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 04-07-815

The itching wouldn't stop, no matter how badly I scratched. There was nothing to touch, but the constant presence drove me insane. Perhaps I'd made a mistake in asking Hvitserk to leave me alone. Someone around to talk to might've distracted me from the incessant itch.  
   
"Fucking asshole," I whispered towards the fire roaring in the hearth. The flames warmed my face. Usually the heat provided some comfort, but now it only made things worse.   
   
I rubbed my back against the seat, but the motion did little to ease my growing frustration, nor the ache. This was just stress. That was all, I was overwhelmed. Who wouldn't be, after seeing their dead father in the flesh?  
   
Fucker. Motherfucking asshole. How the fuck dare he show his face after all these years. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck! Jozef had wanted to bring me to England. Had he known who Ecbert was? Was Michael, this fake Ecbert, the same man Ragnar had bragged about being friends with all those years?   
   
"Fuck!" In frustration, I slung an empty pitcher against the wall. The clangs echoed through the empty room and my empty heart. "Fucking son of a whore! How the fuck are you still alive! I killed you! I killed you! You're supposed to be dead! I'll kill you again!"  
   
A raging fire consumed me from the inside out. My veins went wide; the blood pumping so fast I sensed it lifting my skin. The pitcher slid in front of my feet. A kick sent it flying again. Nothing would stand in my way. These hands would kill him dead, until the life flowed out of his stone-cold eyes.  
   
Near the hearth stood an iron stand with a poker that called out my name. Length-wise, the bar would be more than enough to skewer him. I grabbed it and stormed out of the door.   
   
The confusion on Hvitserk's face lingered, his gaze aimed at the poker. "Auntie? Are you… What are you doing?"  
   
"Get out of my way," I muttered as I tried to shoulder past him. Bjorn had no idea who he was up against.   
   
"Bjorn told us to wait for him."  
   
My eyes snapped up to his. "The fuck I will. Let me through, now. Or I'll shove this through your heart, first." The bloodlust urged me on to not even wait for his reply. That fucking itch only made it worse.   
   
"But you don't even know how to fight." He reached out to my hand, but I jerked it back.   
   
The poker shot forward and caught in his shirt, tearing the fabric.  
   
Hvitserk stood flat against the wall, wide-eyed, staring at me.   
   
The poker fell to the floor. As I covered my mouth, I took a step back. And yet, heavy gasps came through. My boy, my sweet Hvitserk. I'd tried to kill him.  
   
Hvitserk let go of my wrist and pulled me close as I sobbed against his chest. "Shh, it's okay. I know you didn't mean for that to happen. Trust me, I know what it's like to have your father return."   
   
He was so wrong. How could he ever understand? Did he even know what my father had done? I couldn't remember if I ever told him. Ubbe knew, and Sigurd, but how much did Hvitserk know about my childhood?   
   
He'd never given me trouble, and I'd tried to skewer him.   
   
"This isn't me, I swear. You know me. I'd never hurt you, or your brothers." I clutched at his shirt, sobbing all the while.   
   
Michael would break free and kill me. Honestly, it was a miracle it hadn't happened before. For days now he'd asked to see me. He knew I'd been here, but he had wanted to see the confusion on my face when he found out I recognized him. Michael was poison. Now I'd seen him again, thinking of him as my father made me sick. I couldn't be near him, or anyone. Not when I tried to hurt those around me like this.   
   
I had to get out. Nothing good would come of being near that man. I had to leave this room. The villa. The country. Hvitserk wouldn't understand, none of them would. Why else was Michael still alive? Bjorn had known who that man was. He'd seen him before, years past. And yet he had allowed him to live after he'd figured it out. Or had he known all those years? What hope was there of being safe here?  
   
I shoved Hvitserk into my room and spun around to run in the other direction. Just through the hallway that would lead to the courtyard. Straight ahead, not that far. The itch in my back only increased, but I had to get through this. As soon as I was away from Michael, I'd be rid of that stress. Phoebe, some oats, and I'd make it off this island. The fear racing through my veins would keep me nourished.  
   
Three steps. That's how far I got before Hvitserk caught my wrist. His arms wrapped around me from behind.   
   
"No! Let me go! You fucking asshole, let me go! Don't touch me!" I wriggled in his grasp.  
   
"Auntie, calm down. I don't know what to do, okay? Bjorn said I had to stay here with you, I can't..."  
   
"I have to get out of here, please! Please let me go. You don't understand. What he did to me… I have to get away from him! Hvitserk, please!" Eyes filled with tears I tried to claw my way out. I tried to kick, to turn and twist in his arms and bite. "Get your hands off me! No!"  
   
The room loomed ahead like a dark crevice that grew with every second Hvitserk dragged me back. Michael could be waiting in there to suffocate my mind with thoughts of suicide. That's what he'd done before. It's what he always did. Somehow he would find a way to torture me, even though he sat in a cage and was guarded constantly.   
   
Blood started to rush through my veins again, my breathing hard and shallow. My feet found the doorpost. I kicked off.  
   
Hvitserk stepped back, arms still tight around my waist. "Auntie, what the fuck! Gods, I'm—"  
   
"Fuck you! Let me out of here, right now!" I pushed off from his chest, but he didn't move an inch.   
   
Damn him to Helheim, I couldn't get out.  There was no way out. Hvitserk was too broad to slip past and too quick to outsmart. Stuck. Beneath Michael's roof, living under his rules. No... No, no, no! "No! Get out of my way! Hvitserk, I have to get out! You don't understand, let me go! I have to get to safety!" Through my tears, his shape was a haze. Didn't he understand? To keep him safe, I had to leave, I had to escape. That was the only way to keep everyone safe.  
   
"I don't—Auntie... Talk to me, please. What should I do?" He touched the side of my face.  
   
"No! Don't touch me, please don't touch me!" I dove away from his reach, tripping over my own legs. The floor bashed into my hip. Only heaving sobs came from my chest. "Don't do this to me…"   
   
"But I… Please, auntie. Tell me what to do. How can I help? You're not making any sense. I want to help, but you have to tell me what to do."  
   
Ragged, heaving sobs scraped over the inside of my lungs. In his ignorance, he would hurt me. Hvitserk would kill me by keeping me here, and otherwise, that itch would do it for him. There was no escaping Michael. He reigned supreme while I cowered at the mere sight of him. As I moved back I hit the wall. The sensation of my back scraping over the wall was the only relief that registered. It stopped as I hit the floor.  
   
"Is this because of your father?"  
   
Acid burned in my throat. My intestines tried to escape, but all that came out was some sour smelling liquid. Why did he keep me here? How did he not see the danger we were in? All of us, Michael would kill us.  
   
"Oh, fuck. I don't... Auntie, please. I don't know how to help. Do you... Wait, you used to give me some water. And some bread. Wait here, I'll go get you some. I'll be right back, okay?"  
   
Morning sickness? Or was it stress? Either way, this was it. If I was to escape, it would be now. The vomit on my breath was the least of my problems.   
   
That itch was still there, sapping my strength. I stumbled on, hand across my stomach. Kol's last moments had ended like this, me clutching to a wall to get away. One step at a time. This child would not die here, nor in birth. Hand along the wall. Sigurd wasn't here this time. He didn't wear socks anymore. One step at a time.  
   
An ache seared through my shoulder blades. There was still time to get out before I showed. Michael couldn't find out about my pregnancy, ever. That bastard would keep us here, steal my child away. Never, I'd sooner die with the child still in me. Save it from the pain of knowing its grandfather, suffering through Michael's abusive form of child-rearing.  
   
Pain shot through my nerves, forced me to my knees. "Aah!" That itch was insane. Gritted teeth, I brushed my shoulder past the wall to keep from going insane.   
   
A sigh of relief escaped me as the pressure took care of the itch just right, only to grunt as it returned with a vengeance. I tried to scratch at the place where it hurt but there was nothing to scratch at. There was only that incessant itch, turning into an ache too fast.   
   
The cool rock would soothe my skin. I tore the upper part of my dress free and pressed my back into the soothing stones. It helped, if only a second. Sanity returned to my mind, just for a second, until I stopped rubbing against the wall.   
   
Agony seared through my skin, flesh, down to my bones. I rubbed again, clutching the dress tight. This was insane. Itches weren't supposed to run this deep, ever. Who had even heard of it? And yet, I kept on rubbing; it was the only thing that kept me sane. Keep rubbing. Easy as that.  
   
Hvitserk would be back shortly. Then he would scratch my back for me. Only until he returned, then I could stop rubbing my back against this wall. That was doable. See, I wasn't a moron. I would rub my back against this wall all day if I had to. Just—just a little harder...  
   
"Oh, that hits the spot... Oh, sweet merciful relief..." Hvitserk took his sweet time. "Fuck yeah, that's..."   
   
The itch was getting worse. There had to be a better way to deal with this itch, now I was still able to think. Maybe my nails... No, those would never reach. The itch concentrated in between my shoulders, just out of reach. The only way I would survive this was by rubbing my back against something other than the wall.  
   
The poker.  
   
With that thing behind my back, I could rub against it until Hvitserk came. This wasn't just my imagination. My back hurt too much for this to be anything but reality. The skin on my back screamed as I made my way past the wall, moving slowly as my back pressed into the cold stones. A small table stood in my way. That was kicked away soon enough, but then came a corner…  
   
Just the thought made me despair. I looked up, wondering how the gods could ever be this cruel.  
   
"Freyja, please, I beg you, don't do this to me. What's happening to me? Ever since that first raid on Paris I have thought of you as my mother. Why won't you make it stop? Please, you can do that, you can heal me. Like you did before. In Uppsala, you healed all of my scars. And then you gave me Freydis, and now..."  
   
Despite my efforts, I failed to control my sobbing. My skin turned raw from the hard stones underneath. And then I stopped rubbing.   
   
It was the barest flash, a hint, but it had me screaming in silence. Near madness drove me to keep on rubbing, tears rolling down my face.  
   
"Please. Mom, help me." A whimpering heave left my chest while I rubbed my back against the wall. The sensation of warm liquid dripping down my spine brought even more tears to my eyes. That was blood. "Freyja, I beg of you. Everyone knows you're the strongest goddess of all. I need you, don't—don't abandon me... Don't be cruel..."  
   
The only solution for this corner was to reach for the edge, twisting and turning to keep my back from staying still, then pulled myself to the side.  
   
Inside corner. Could've been worse. Fuck, that fucking pain... Focus. First my feet, those had to move. Then my hands, I would need to time this right. Back pressed against the wall, I rubbed a last time, screamed as I shifted my butt, then crashed my back into the new piece of wall.  
   
Something stuck out of my back. As I threw it against the wall, I howled in pain; the hurting only grew worse. My fingers reached out, scraping over my back, feeling... Something. There was something underneath the skin, some kind of bump.   
   
An abscess, of course. Yes, this was a logical problem. What else could it have been? Michael's reach didn't go all the way to this room. Even he didn't have that kind of power. This was nothing to do with the gods either, just stress and bad luck. That thing must've pressed down on a nerve. A small puncture would be enough to get rid of the pressure. Then the pain would be gone, too.  
   
Yes, that was it. Some kind of fluid was building up there, I just had to pierce it carefully, and I'd be free of this pain. That was all. There was a logical explanation for all of this. This was a medical problem. These kinds of issues I could cope with.  
   
In a circular motion I rubbed my back against the wall as I proceeded across the stone wall. Against all odds, I hoped the abscess would pop on its own. The way it was building pressure, there was hardly anything else it could do. Or was something sharp nearby that would pierce the abscess? It would have to go in at least two inches, preferably not too big of an opening. A thin blade? Or a needle? No, that wouldn't be strong enough. A knife. In my bag, the steel ones from back home. Those were sharp enough and relatively clean. Right beside the fireplace, it wasn't that far off. Hvitserk would pierce it the moment he got back.  
   
I moved across the wall again, squinting as the pain got worse. With my feet I pulled the bag close, then upended it. The knives clattered on the floor, alongside some loose arrowheads, a tinderbox, a knife Thormund would love and some pieces of ruffled cloth. One foot outstretched, I drew the knife closer.  
   
The cold handle in my grasp was heavy. The blade shook; the dull reflection only cast back faded colors. Nothing of it showed the fear that gripped me. Hvitserk said he'd be right back, and...  
   
Eyes glancing through the room, I knew he would never believe me. A trace of blood lined the wall. The sight inflamed the ache of my back, which had turned into a raw, painful mess. Hvitserk would never take my word for this, not after I'd nearly stabbed him with that blasted poker.  
   
Why did this kind of stuff always happen to me? Why couldn't I mourn Helga, maybe witness another blood-eagle and go home? How come the gods had more in store for me? After surviving that onslaught, Váli searching me out, and then learning Michael was still alive, what else could they throw at me? What more did the gods want?  
   
The pain grew unbearable. Hvitserk took too long, this way I wouldn't make it until he got back. I threw back my shoulders, pressing against the wall from a slightly different angle. A hampered sigh passed my lips. Even through the rubbing, the pain only ever increased. "Mother, please... You must think I'm insane, but please... Grant me strength and a steady hand. Váli, I'm certain we met once, in Uppsala. You spoke of things that I can't remember, but I can still feel the words. Please, I beseech you, give me the strength to conquer this..." I whimpered. "Whatever it is. Guide my hands, and let my aim be true."  
   
I brought the knife to my back, pressing against the wall to keep from screaming out loud. For this to work, I'd have to stop moving, assess where I had to stick in the knife. This would be Hel.  
   
In one swift motion, I leaned forward and threw my free hand to my back to search for the abscesses. I couldn't find it. The bloody thing must have been below my shoulder blades... This would be horrible. But the pain grew unbearable. Who knew how long Hvitserk would be gone? This was my only option before I'd die of pain.  
   
"Freyja, guide my hand," I whispered as I put the blade in place, aiming up from my hand. The point was sharp and probably already bloody. The left side first, that was easiest with my right hand.  
   
I grunted at the pain, then took in a deep breath to keep from moving around as I tried to lance the abscess. The point broke my skin, then hit bone.  
   
The pain overwhelmed me. I cried out as my body lurched forward, screaming bloody murder. My back smashed back into the wall again—  
   
The knife. No. Impossible. The handle had stuck out of my ribs. I'd…  
   
The pain had stopped. The iron knife protruded my left lung.   
   
An itch had killed me. I'd murdered myself. How had I have been this stupid?  
   
Shock. My body was beyond the sensation of pain. Unintentional suicide. That was the kindest way I managed to describe it for myself. I breathed in. The blade moved around in my chest. How far had it gone in? The knife didn't come out through my chest. And yet, blood gushed out as I removed it. Somehow my breathing was still normal. The right lung must have taken over, or compensated or something. How did this work? How long did I have left?  
   
Time slowed down. The twins, I'd never see them again. In my mind, the image of them lying on my chest right after they'd been born was still so clear. Thormund had trouble latching on... Then what had happened with Kol, and Freydis' birth a few years later. Everything would've gone so smooth if I hadn't been so stressed out about either of us dying. Freydis, sweet gentle Freydis. That promise of hers had kept me going for so long, had dragged me through Hel and back. The gifts those kids had given me, how could I be so cruel as to remove myself from their lives?  
   
I'd spent too much time teaching them about the world. Math, geography, statecraft—they were just kids. There was a whole brave new world for them to explore. And Freydis, my gift from the gods, the warm source of solace in the dark days since Bjorn had left me. Who would help her, now?  
   
I took in another ragged breath. The boys… Hvitserk would find my corpse. Bled out, knife in hand, blood pooled around me. Everyone would think that I had done it on purpose. Sigurd would lose the one parent he ever had. My beautiful ginger boy...   
   
Another breath. Nothing looked strange, nothing faded. Without any trouble, I stretched my fingers and balled them in fists again. More breaths followed, and all felt normal. The pain between my shoulders had gone. The abscess had drained. At least I'd die in peace.  
   
"That was it?" The ceiling kept up its gloomy, drab appearance. "Bjorn needed my help to conquer Wessex? That's why you brought me here? This was your grand plan? And then you get rid of me by unintended suicide? That's how no one wants to speak of me, again? The Seer foretold that would happen. This had got to be the dumbest way to die in this day and age." Did that mean the gods were creative, or bland as Hel?  
   
The knife had come with me from my past as a means to end my life, and now it was there at my end all the same. Ironic, really, that something from home killed me. The boys would give the blades to the twins, as a memento. They would raise them for me. Four uncles and four children...  
   
Three. One would come with me to Helheim. Had Kol been waiting for me all those years? Oh, my sweet cabbage, we'd finally meet. I'd get to hold him in my arms, as it had always been meant to be. Nobody would take him away again.   
   
I pushed myself up, then let my hands slide to my stomach. A bloody trail spread over my skin. Not that it mattered. I'd bleed out, soon. Then I would fall asleep, and nothing would ever bother me again. Would my baby die at the same time as me?  
   
"Forgive me." Tears stung my eyes. "You don't deserve a dumb mother like me. Please, forgive me..." Head rested against the wall, I crawled up for comfort as I spent my last few moments alive. Peaceful. Strange.   
   
The moment lasted long. Again I touched my back, but my hand came back not much bloodier than it had been. How did...   
   
I'd shoved a knife up my back, I'd pierced my lung. But I couldn't find the wound, aside from the scraped skin that I'd hurt on the wall.  
   
Crouched up on one arm, I leaned forward. A huge pool of blood lay underneath me, dripping down my legs and behind. Even the knife was bloodied beyond all reason. At least four inches had gone in, judging by the clear ruby stain on the blade. The pain entering my lungs as I slammed back was still clear as day.  
   
Gingerly, I touched my back again. Nothing was there.  
   
But that couldn't be. This was supposed to be the end. A knife to my chest had killed me. How could I not be dying? What was this madness? This wasn't real. My back didn't magically restore—  
   
Freyja?  
   
Who else could have answered my prayers? Somehow, she had taken away the hurt and then had healed me. Váli wasn't the only one who'd kept an eye on me over the years, or at least the past few days. Was she as real as him?  
   
Of course she was. I'd seen Freyja before, and her presence was enough to heal me. The goddess of death had heard my prayers. In my hour of need, she stood beside me.  
   
The cold floor comforted my scratched-up back. Eyes on the ceiling as if I watched the stars, I vowed to sacrifice a goat in her honor, with my bare hands. Freyja had pulled through for me again; I must have owed her my life thrice over by now. For a moment I didn't care about the blood that pooled around me while I lay there, exposed in nothing but my underskirt. Whatever had just happened, I had cheated death. Freyja had cheated for me.  
   
A few minutes of wallowing on the floor had to suffice. I had to get clean, or at least put on a dress. Someone would come to check on me soon, and I'd never be able to explain the blood on the walls. Perhaps it was best to just shove a cabinet in front of it, for now, to say I was cleaning to get rid of the nerves. That was better than trying to clean up and get caught red-handed.  
   
Beside the bed stood a pitcher of water. Feet first, I rinsed the blood off my body. The thought of going near my shoulders scared the daylight out of me, but as I reached out there last, it turned out to be a useless fear. Even the scrapes on my shoulder blades had gone. All was well. Freyja had outdone herself once again. Unbelievable. She must have healed my scars back in Uppsala, too. Every wound I'd ever sustained had faded, some faster than others. Had those all healed by her grace?  
   
And all I'd ever done was call her a vicious cunt. "How can I not think of you as my mother after this? Even though I'm an ungrateful bitch you always look out for me. How can I ever repay this kindness you did for me?"   
   
All the dresses I'd brought along smelled something fierce. That was my own fault for assuming I would have time for a round of laundry over here while I'd packed. The only one that didn't smell of death was my battle dress. Perhaps wearing it would make me strong and confident, able to handle this shit. It was better than wearing nothing.  
   
The dress I'd worn before was too bloody to save. It served as a mop to get most of the blood off the floor, then I shoved it into an empty chest. I'd deal with that one later.  
   
Only one cabinet looked like it was light enough to move on my own, but not that broad. There was easily ten feet to cover. That table I'd pushed off would stand fit well in the corner, which would block off a significant part. The rug by the bed would hide the huge bloodstain on the floor. This was getting somewhere.  
   
The rug was a dark red, so the bloodstains didn't even matter all that much. Almost as if this was meant to happen. Once again, I thanked Freyja. Some chests hid part of the longer piece of the wall; all there was left was to move the heavy cabinet in place. Then I would go back to fretting over Michael and him being here, but first I needed to get rid of this problem. If the boys thought I was insane, that would devastate them. The love I held for my sons ran deeper than my hatred for Michael did.   
   
Yes, that was a good thought. I would cling to that. After attempting to skewer Hvitserk, that was the least I could do. Focus on them, not Michael. Panic had overtaken me, but that was over now. Yes. I was me again.   
   
The cabinet would only need to be pushed a short distance. For the first part, I pushed off against the wall with my feet, making light work of the first two feet. Then I had to really use my shoulders. Hands planted firmly on the side, I rolled my shoulders back as I kept on pushing.  
   
The cabinet flew through the room. I flew right after it.  
   
Wooden remnants of the cabinet covered the floor my body sprawled on. I'd flown straight across the room, the fire snapping at my hair. Why didn't it hurt? What the fuck? How had the cabinet exploded?   
   
My fingers brushed over my back. Nothing strange there. Tip-toeing around on bared feet, I got away from the splinters that had flown everywhere. Even the bottom of the cabinet had not survived, not a single slat was intact. Quite a few nails stuck out from pieces of wood. Floki had only ever used large ones; these were tiny in comparison. Most of his constructions fit together like a puzzle, an arduous process. In my mind, Floki's method was better, if only because I'd never seen anything of his break this easily.  
   
It must have been stuck on the floor before. When I pushed it past that point, it had just flown off. Yes, that was it. Just a stupid mistake, I should've been more careful.  
   
A deep steadying breath caught in my throat. Was Freyja having fun at my expense? What was going on here? This was too much to deal with on a single day. "Freyja, please. I'm running out of excuses, here. What's going on? What are you trying to tell me? Is this even real? Why is Hvitserk not back, yet? He said he would only take a minute. Please. Mom, this needs to make sense somehow."   
   
But it didn't. None of it did. Whatever reason I came up with, the inexplicable things kept piling up. Why now? Michael was alive, I should plan my escape from the villa. Not bother with exploding cabinets and dying and then surviving.  
   
The fire to my back cast a shadow on the wall, hiding the whole of the door. But that couldn't be. Two huge bulges stuck out over my shoulders. My head was barely visible in between.  
   
The shadow moved left as I did. The kept in place as if they were a part of me. Impossible, I would've noticed if something that big rested on my shoulders. Shadows didn't lie. But I wasn't crazy, either. Those shadows meant something was between the wall and the fire. Something was there. But it couldn't be. There was nothing my eyes or fingers found.  
   
"Mom?" I whispered. "What's going on here? My back, it's..." Ragged breaths pushed out of my throat, fingers trembling as I touched my neck again. Nothing there. The other side didn't have a bulge either, not even as I reached around my ribs. Nothing was there. But the shadow told me otherwise.  
   
I smashed my back against the wall, knowing there wasn't anything there. If there was I would've noticed. This couldn't be real. Where did that shadow come from? Nothing around me could've cast it.   
   
"Please, let this be a dream," I breathed, my breathing growing uneven and heaving. "No, this can't be. There's nothing there, this isn't real. There's no such things as fake shadows. There's no such thing as fake shadows. Nothing is sticking out of my back. See, I can't even feel it. There's nothing, my back is fine. Freyja healed me."  
   
This must have been some leftover thing from her healing me or something like that. No way that I actually had something on my—now that I looked at the shadow a little closer… Were those…  
   
The fire crackled. I jumped up, hurt my head, and then lay sprawled on the floor again. For a moment my entire sight was blurry, my head hurt. My fingers came back red as I grazed over the spot I'd hit against the... The ceiling?  
   
A drop of red fell, landing on my cheek. I wiped it off. Blood. From my head, I'd hit my head on the ceiling. The ceiling stood twice as high as me. The shadow, it... The bulges moved. I stood still, but the bulges spread out.  
   
As I moved a hand backward, my body crashed into the table. The fire roared from a sudden gust of wind. Part of me wanted to scream in agony, but it barely hurt. A piece of wood stuck out of my arm, that didn't hurt, either. I yanked it out, then threw it away. There were more splinters in my skin, and my leg had a deep scratch ending with a rusty nail still embedded, as if someone had hammered it in. A small fragment of dark wood was still attached to the nail.  
   
The trail of blood closed in front of my eyes.  
   
"No..." My hand brushed over the wound, hitting the nail. All I had to show for my efforts were a few smears of blood on my leg, even the nail got pushed out on its own. It clattered in between the second pile of debris. The walls were still lined with blood, proof it had all been real, and the soggy rug underneath me was still warm from the blood.  
   
"No, no, no, no, no... Freyja, don't do this to me. What's happening?" I stared at my hands as if those held the answer. Only a few blood spatters remained on the skin, the shreds of wood must've worked their way out of my skin the same way that nail had. This couldn't be. "Fuck… I'm losing my fucking mind."  
   
But how was this real? If there was nothing, that meant I was asleep, maybe I'd been knocked out cold as that cabinet had broken. That had to be it. How else...  
   
I grabbed a piece of wood that had a nail sticking out and scratched my arm with it, but I didn't feel a thing. The skin healed the same as before. I scratched again, deeper this time. Nothing. With a piece of wood, I struck a nail deep inside my leg, hitting bone. The scrap of wood fell as I flinched, but it barely hurt. This time I had to pull softly to get the nail out, but my flesh underneath ached; the strange sensation didn't stop until the nail was out entirely. This was absurd.   
   
My wrist, then? Blood seeped out of the scratch, but it healed up even faster than before. The blood loss didn't even bother me. Slowly I got to my knees, reaching for the bloody knife that lay at the other end of the debris. This time my body didn't fling itself across the room.   
   
"Freyja, if this is your idea of a joke I'll kill you. I'm scared, and confused, and I know you can come visit me. Please, I don't know what's going on. Why won't you help me?" Or was this someone else's doing? Who else could've been behind this? Those shadows on the wall, they meant trouble. And this wasn't the kind I would get rid of with an army. This was either a dream or I'd grown psychotic. I'd come here wanting to kill myself with this knife and now slitting my wrists would save me. Hopefully.  
   
The blade was still wet from before. Even before I cut, a trail of blood ran past my wrists.  
   
No. What the fuck was I doing? If the lack of pain didn't prove I'd turned psychotic, slitting my wrists would.   
   
As the knife flung across the room, blood spattered from its edge. The moment I'd shoved that knife up my own back I'd proven to myself what I feared. Either this was all real and the gods had fucked up my life for good, or I was better off going to bed.   
   
One glance at the bed sent me there, breaking through one of the wooden posters. This was insane, I should be hurting. At least I should lose consciousness. It was as if I was unable to die.  
   
I wouldn't die.  
   
That blasted prophecy of Aslaug's, and then Váli had told me the boys still needed me. This would never end. Even now, with Michael alive just one corridor removed from this room, the gods wouldn't grant me some peace and quiet. What good was this kind of hallucination? I only had to think of a place and my body lurched there.   
   
The twins, Freydis. Why spend this dream in this room when I could dream about them? Was this even a dream? All I knew was that I wanted to be home. "My children," I whispered.  
   
My body launched towards the door, but it held me. The shadow on the door was unmistakable. I pressed myself off the door. There was no denying it now. Those were wings. Made of shadows, invisible to the naked eye. The gods had made me a true Valkyrie.  
   
The handle wouldn't open, but it wasn't locked. Something else held me back. Maybe I had to will the door to open? Anything seemed possible.  
   
"If we ever meet, I'll kill you before thanking you, Freyja."   
   
Again my body slammed against the door.  
   
She was real. Just as much as my children were.   
   
I could visit her, if it wasn't for this door... Freyja existed. She was a real being; this was proof of it. Whatever those wings were doing to me, their message was clear.   
   
"Odin…"  
   
The shadows forced me into the door again. Holy crap. "Elske." My birth mom.  
   
Nothing. She wasn't born yet. She hadn't come to this time like Michael and Jozef. "Dumbo. Snow White." Nothing. Those didn't exist either. "Ragnar."   
   
The shadow on my back responded again. Then I wondered… After so many years of hesitations and being an atheist, I couldn't resist.   
   
"Krishna." A yank. "Vishnu." Another yank. "God."  
   
The door flew open. The force pulled on my body worse than before. It knocked the breath out of my lungs, widened my veins, and the softness of clouds whirled around my skin.  
   
Hvitserk fell backwards from the force, taking me with him.  
   
"Auntie, what..." The grasp on my arms was stronger than before. Hvitserk stared at me with an intense look.   
   
"Took you long enough. Where were you?" I rolled off him and helped him to his feet.   
   
"What was all that noise? Did you break the door?" He peeked into the room.   
   
"I can explain." That was the wrong thing to say. "Please, just let me tell you. Hvitserk, please."  
   
"You trashed the entire room? But how? I only left you alone for a few minutes."  
   
"What? No, it's been at least two hours. Listen to me, I didn't do it on purpose. Freyja, she's done something. If all that blood is mine, how can I still be awake? No one else was in here, that can only be my blood."  
   
"Auntie..."  
   
"This—I don't know, okay? There was this itch on my back, and then it stopped after I—no, wait, I—how can I explain this? Hvitserk, please. Look at me. This wasn't me. Freyja did something to me. It's as if I can't die. This itch turned into something like a shadow? I don't know, it's on my back, but I can't see a thing back there. And they're like—I don't know, they send me into any direction I want. When I called out her name, those shadows wanted to take me there. Somehow she's protecting me, she's real. And I can go to her if I want. I can go to Asgard."  
   
Hvitserk's eyes returned to mine. The sad look on his face warned me how bad it was. He thought I was lying. "Mortals can't go there, auntie. You taught me that."   
   
What could I ever say to convince him it wasn't a dream? That I hadn't gone insane?  
   
Bjorn rounded the corner, slowly. Had he heard me rambling? If so, I had to get out. Now. The trust between us had gone completely.  
   
"Hvitserk? What's wrong?" Bjorn asked, his eyes wandering from me to his brother.  
   
"Auntie trashed her room, and now she's spouting nonsense about the gods."  
   
"What? No, I'm not. Bjorn, I—Hvitserk, let go of me! I'm trying to explain what just happened!"  
   
"What, so you can try to kill me again?"  
   
"I didn't—I panicked, okay? You wouldn't let go of me. For Odin's sake, what's wrong with you!" The strong grasp on my arms only grew worse as I tried to fight it. "Let go of me!"  
   
Hvitserk wrapped his arms around me, holding me even tighter as Bjorn looked inside. "Don't make this harder than it already is," he begged. It calmed me down. I didn't intend to cause trouble. His relaxed sigh moved past my ear, his thumb brushing over my arm.  
   
"Freyja came to me," I whispered, watching Bjorn take a step inside. "Something happened, with my body, and now I have this... I'm not even sure what it is. Will you listen to me?"  
   
"What did she tell you?" Hvitserk asked.  
   
"Well, she didn't tell me exactly. But she was here. Freyja saved my life, and then..."  
   
"But you just said there was blood everywhere." The way he said it, he hadn't seen it himself. His thumb kept brushing over my skin, his head resting against mine, but he didn't let go of my arms. His grip only tightened.   
   
Had he glossed over it, somehow? Or had Freyja taken care of that as well?   
   
"You don't believe me." The whisper came soft past my lips but stabbed through my heart. Even though he kept silent, his reluctance to answer told me I was right.   
   
Bjorn returned to the hallway with a grave expression, his shoulders taut from the strain.  
   
"Five minutes?" he asked.  
   
Hvitserk nodded.   
   
Bjorn let out a deep sigh, trying to relax. "Five minutes to compose yourself, and instead you destroy everything in the room and you put on your war dress?" That tone he used made me sound like a child.  
   
"To me, it was closer to two hours," I said, trying my best to keep my voice calm and even. If I started shouting, he would tear into me. Unable to walk away or take back control, Bjorn looked cruel and unforgiving. This was how his enemies saw him. Barely contained anger overshadowed the lingering sadness in his eyes.  
   
"And what happened according to you?" He had trouble keeping his voice even. That meant he didn't want to shout; that gave me some wiggle room.  
   
"It started with an itch on my back, it was there before Hvitserk left me. Back in the throne room, even. The itch got so bad I rubbed up against the wall. There must have been some kind of abscess underneath my shoulder blades. No matter how long I waited, Hvitserk didn't come back, so I drained it myself. And when I did, the room was a bloody mess because of all the writhing against the wall."   
   
"An itch made you destroy the furniture," Bjorn said, raising an eyebrow. The way he crossed his arms, thumbs sticking up from underneath his armpits, that was a bad sign. He didn't believe even this part of my story, or he would have wanted to check my back for any injuries. At least, he used to.  
   
"This is the truth, Bjorn. I swear on the children. Some kind of abscess grew beneath my shoulder blades and I lanced it with a knife, But I grazed bone and slammed back into the wall. The knife punctured my lung and I was certain I would die. Freyja saved my life, she stopped the bleeding and healed the wounds. But something went wrong, the—"  
   
"Freyja healed you? After you supposedly killed yourself?" Bjorn sounded somewhere between disbelief and sarcasm. "How did she do that?"  
   
"Do you know how Odin came to you and Hvitserk on the same day he appeared to the others? "  
   
His eyes narrowed. As his gaze slid to Hvitserk, the pressure on my arms fell away. With a sigh of relief, I reached out to the boy, touching his arm, so he knew I wasn't mad. Severely disappointed, but that was a matter for another time.  
   
"Freyja healed me. How else can I still stand up after puncturing a lung? The pain was so bad it made me careless. I know how bad of an idea it is to shove a knife up my own back. But at that moment it was the only thing I could do. I thought Hvitserk wouldn't come back, in my mind it all took so much longer."  
   
Hvitserk frowned, his face wrought in confusion. "But how... I only went to the throne room and back."  
   
"The gods can work many a wonder, who's to say they don't mess around with time as well?"  
   
Bjorn did not look amused. At least the anger seemed directed inward, this time. The play on words had not been lost on him.  
   
"So you almost died from an itch."  
   
"More like my own stupidity. Freyja wouldn't let me die. That prophecy must be a part of it. She healed my wounds before, and you know this is true. Those lines ran so deep for years, on my thighs, and they are gone now. Not a single one of them left so much as a trace. Only the one on my stomach remains, but that is only a few weeks old. There are plenty of wounds that should have left me with at least a faint line, but not a single scar remains. All of them have vanished, as if they were never there."  
   
"Even those... From that time…" Bjorn looked down, to my thighs. The twins didn't even remember I once had them to begin with.  
   
"All gone," I whispered. "You saw how bad it once was. Helga wasn't sure if I would last the night. What does that tell you?"  
   
"The gods are by your side," Bjorn said as he took a step closer. "They always have been."  
   
Yes, this was it. Finally, I was getting through to him, even restoring a bit of his faith in the gods. "After Freyja healed me, something was off about my shadow. I didn't see anything, but... It was just off."  
   
"A shadow?"  
   
"There was only a shadow and nothing to cast it. Hvitserk, do you remember that story about the kid who never wanted to grow up? Who sowed on his own shadow?"  
   
"Vaguely..." It wasn't a favorite of him. After the fiasco with the Little Mermaid, he hadn't liked any story containing mermaids.  
   
"That story must have come from somewhere. There is so much the gods can manipulate, why not shadows and light as well?"  
   
"Ragnhild." Bjorn grew impatient again.   
   
"The shadow showed something on my back, right above the itch. And the moment I got up, I banged my head against the ceiling. When I tried to scoot back I destroyed the table. The bed broke when I meant to sleep it off, thinking it was all a dream. Then I thought about the children, and then Freyja, and that's when I banged against the door right before Hvitserk returned. Bjorn, you have to believe me. If I wanted to lie, I would have come up with a better one."  
   
"He told me this would happen," Bjorn said, sadness winning out in his eyes.  
   
"Who did?" I asked, wariness creeping through my chest. This sudden shift in his emotions scared me more than I wanted to admit.  
   
"Do you really believe Freyja gave you wings that no one else can see? He said you'd only get worse over time."  
   
"What? Bjorn, what do you mean? Who are you talking about?" Michael. I knew, but I had to hear it from his own mouth. He had to admit just how stupid he had been to trust that monster.  
   
"If what you say is right, that room should be blood-soaked. You don't look like you've been losing that much blood. For one, you can still stand."  
   
"You did mention a lot of blood," Hvitserk added.  
   
Was it this easy for them to disbelieve me? Had they forgotten about the past fifteen years? "You have no trouble believing me about that itch and the gods manipulating time, but you draw the line at wings? Have you ever listened to the stories of the gods?"  
   
"Ragnhild, you're claiming to be one of them." Bjorn's voice grew louder. "You claim to be from Asgard. Even the gods can die, Ragnhild. You can't claim to be better than the gods. Not if you want me to believe you, or anything you have ever told me."  
   
Where did this come from? He'd been willing to hear me out before, why would he be this distant now? And Hvitserk, he looked even more distraught.  
   
"Ecbert told us some things about you," Hvitserk said. "About how you were when you lived in Frisia."  
   
The air grew so thick I couldn't breathe or move or blink. What else had he told them? Why did they believe him?  
   
"Hvitserk, I'm not from Frisia. I don't speak their language. Remember that trader that wanted to sell his wares off his cart to avoid the fee? That man was from Frisia. If what Ecbert told you is true, you'd have recognized some words."  
   
Bjorn shook his head, sighing as if I was the one lying. I was, but this one Bjorn understood. He knew why I lied, what depended on those lies.  
   
"They speak all kinds of languages there. Auntie..." Hvitserk reached out, but I shied away from him.   
   
"What, so after one conversation with Michael you think I'm insane? That I hid this for years and you never found out? What does that say about you?"  
   
"Ragnhild, please. You've always been troubled," Bjorn said. "When you just got here, you feared everything."  
   
"I can't believe this," I said, scoffing at the indignation of it all. For years I had talked about how manipulative my father was, and just five minutes alone with Michael had convinced Bjorn those were all lies. "Did you forget everything I told you about him? That piece of shit is the reason I was so troubled in the first place. If you want to look anywhere to see where I got my demons, he is the source. That piece of shit ruined my life."  
   
"You're not exactly helping your case," Bjorn said as he reached out to me. The wall was too close to step back. Bjorn caught my wrist.   
   
"Unhand me, now!" I twisted and turned my arms in all directions but Bjorn was too strong for me to fight. How many times had I tried before? Only words could ever hurt him, but I was too angry to speak. He'd betrayed me. For years he had heard me tell about Michael, and just one conversation with Michael convinced him that our whole life together had been a lie. How the fuck dared he look me in the eye?  
   
"Don't you dare defy me," Bjorn whispered, his face turning red. "You lied to me for years, you don't get a say anymore." He'd never looked at me like this, as if I were an enemy. Only once before I'd been afraid of him lashing out physically, but ever since... Most of the time he had been gone. I didn't know him anymore. Bjorn had become a stranger to me.  
   
"Do you think I never loved you?" My voice was shakier than I wanted. "Bjorn, please. We talked about this. Why you cheated on me, and why I let you. That wasn't a lie, I didn't lie to you. Please, you have to believe me."  
   
Bjorn's eyes remained hard, unbidden.  Michael had already won.  
   
"Please…"  
   
Bjorn dragged me back into the room, slinging me towards the ravaged bed.   
   
A scream covered the sound of the door slamming shut. My hand scraped past a piece of wood that jutted out. "Asshole!" I shouted, but he probably didn't ear. The curse died in the confinements of these walls. In between the wooden shards on the bed, I stared at my hand. It was a shallow cut. A drop of blood welled up.  
   
The rest of the room was trashed, but there wasn't any blood anywhere. Closing my hand into a fist, I thought of Freyja. Had she been here herself? Or was this Loki's doing?  
   
The wound on my hand didn't close. "What's going on?" I asked, looking at the fire. It burned as if nothing had happened. "Mom..." Now I knew it was true; I was losing my mind.


End file.
